“If he ran out of beer, if the car didn’t start, if my mother forgot to get groceries because she was too high off her ass, it was all my fault, and I would pay the price for it. But every time, they had a reasonable excuse for why I was all black and blue, and I quickly gained a reputation of being a troubled kid who got into fights. Even though I had never fought anyone in my life. By the time I was twelve, I had already broken both my arms twice, one leg, and a few other fractures, along with two of my ribs.”
Tears well in my eyes as I try my hardest not to let them out. I want to be strong for him at this moment, but all I picture is a little innocent blond boy fighting for his life. And it breaks my heart.
I turn my head, kissing his chest through the fabric of his shirt, and pull my arm tighter around his waist. “CPS didn’t try to get involved? No one found it weird that you were always beaten up?”
“They did, but it never came to anything. My parents put on bright faces and pretended we were a big happy family. And since they had been spreading their lies for as long as I can remember, when they questioned my teachers or anyone else involved in my life, everyone gave the same story.”
I shake my head, disgusted with how little effort the system might have put into his case, disgusted with how easily people believed the lies. No matter how troubled a child might be, no matter how many fights they might get in, there’s always a reason behind it, and it usually has to do with their home environment. They should have fought harder to uncover the evil truth that lurked behind his door.
“Did you ever try telling them? No one believed you?”
“There was one. When I was in seventh grade, I had a math teacher, Ms. Winslow. After the first couple of bruises or casts, she started watching me closely. It didn’t take her long to realize I wasn’t a troubled kid.” I can hear the appreciation in his voice that he has for this teacher with how he says her name.
“One day after class, she held me back and sat me down, refused to let me leave until I told her the truth. She called CPS right away. She really did try to help, but when she noticed nothing was coming from it, she took matters into her own hands.”
I look up and kiss the underside of his jaw. “I’m happy you had someone there for you. Someone who believed you,” I whisper.
He tilts his head down, a sad smile lining his lips. His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his eyes roaming over my features before he kisses me tenderly. He pulls away, leaning his head back, and continues his story as I listen to every word that falls from his beautiful lips.
“Since I was only twelve and couldn’t get emancipated until I was sixteen, she got me into hockey. With all the practices and games, I was out of the house most of the time. She also found me a little job cleaning tables and washing dishes where I was paid under the table. Anything to make sure I spent as little time in my home as possible. If I wasn’t at hockey, I was at the diner.” His hand glides down my arm as he strokes up and down with the tip of his fingers.
“You had a job cleaning tables and washing dishes for years… yet you’re incapable of doing it now,” I deadpan.
He chuckles and kisses my head. “I never said I was any good at it.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head against him before letting him continue with his past.
“Evelyn, that was her name, let me store all the money I made at her place. She only lived a few blocks away, a ten-minute walk. She even got me a cheap phone so that I could call her or the authorities if I ever needed. And whenever I was too weak to walk after another one of his brutal punishments, she would come pick me up.”
“Your mother… did she hurt you too?” I swallow the bile rising in my throat at the thought of a mother doing that to her child.
“My mother, in some ways, was more evil than my father. She didn’t use her fists often; instead, she played with my emotions. Anything I loved or grew attached to, she would rip it away from me and force me to watch as she burned it or broke it.” He lets out a breath.
“Whether it was a new pair of shoes or a picture of me winning my first hockey game. She didn’t care. If it were something I cared about, she’d destroy it. I quickly learned to stop bringing anything I cared about home.”
I can hear the sadness seeping through his words. All he wanted was a mother who loved him, and instead he got two parents who wished he was dead. Life isn’t fair.
“Anyway, when I turned sixteen, Evelyn helped me get emancipated. It worked. I was finally free of them. Even though she wasn’t my teacher anymore, she still helped me and took me in, and my job started paying me properly. Things were finally going well for me.”
He swallows, and I have a feeling I know where this story is going and why his parents still have a hold on him. “She never tried to seduce me in any way, nevershowed any interest. But I was a sixteen-year-old boy filled with testosterone. I had grown into my shape. I was tall and fit with all the workouts and hockey. And I mean, look at me. Hard to resist, right?” He chuckles when I smack him.
But he’s right, the man is gorgeous and apparently impossible to resist.
“One night after a win, she offered me a congratulatory beer. One thing led to another, and we had sex. I was so nervous. It was my first time, and she was beautiful and much older than me. It was intimidating.” He laughs, remembering the moment.
“She freaked out in the morning, but I reassured her I wouldn’t tell anyone. It didn’t happen again for a few weeks, but then it became a regular thing. We were always careful, never showing any signs of affection in public. And like I promised her, I never told a soul.”
“How long did it go on?”
“About two years, until I went off to college. No one knows about my relationship with her, not even Noah. You’re the first person I’ve told. It’s why he doesn’t understand why I’m…” He trails off.
I lift myself from his chest and look at him. “Why you’re having nightmares,” I finish for him.
I had already put it together, the state of his sheets every couple of days. How he never wants to spend the whole night in bed with me, and I find him sleeping somewhere else in the morning.
He sighs. “Yeah… he knew I had some occasionally. But ever since my parents came back into the picture, they’ve gotten worse. I don’t know how they found out about me and Evelyn, but somehow, they did, and they claim to have evidence.”
“They’re blackmailing you for money?” I ask.
