Violence Begets... (22 page)

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Authors: Pt Denys,Myra Shelley

Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Literature & Fiction, #Fiction, #Gay, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction, #Genre Fiction

BOOK: Violence Begets...
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I'd known my blatant disregard for his
curfew would eventually catch up to me, but I had no plans to change my habits.
Plain and simple, when I wasn’t at the house, he had less of an opportunity to come
after me, and that alone was worth the risk of an occasional punishment. I knew
one of the main reasons I got it this time, was because I’d been home more in the
last week and, frankly, my dad couldn’t stand my presence.

As I hoped, when he finished with me,
it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. Pushing him did make him blow faster
and harder, but he burned out quickly. I quietly made my way to the bottom of the
stairs and heard him asking Emma if she wanted to go out for ice cream. He gently
told her I was busy when she asked if I could come. As soon as they left, I began
the painful process of cleaning up. It rattled me how easy it was becoming to pick
up the pieces after his attacks.

When Kevin didn’t show up the next morning,
I assumed he was off on one of his party binges and was relieved not to have to
deal with his irritable aggression, on top of the pain I was already battling. I
never liked the idea of him disappearing like he did, but it wasn’t until this incident
that it crossed my mind he might be off screwing around with a bunch of guys. I
was completely zoned out in my own world when I heard Jeremy ask Mike if Kevin was
going to be okay.

“What?” I snapped at him, and he looked
at me with a confused expression. When he didn’t respond, I felt the heat rush to
my face and heard myself demand, “What did you just say?”

“What about Kevin?”

“Yeah. What about him? Did something
happen?”

In the few seconds it took him to answer,
I thought only of what his dad was capable of doing.

“Yeah, he was in a car accident last
night with his dad. Didn’t you hear?”       

I stared hard at him, not wanting to
hear what he said next. Jason came crashing into my world and my knees gave way,
sending me to the ground.

“Holy fuck man, you okay?” Jeremy asked,
kneeling next to me.

I couldn’t find words but searched their
faces for any sign that Kevin was alive. They didn’t look torn up, but they didn’t
really like him all that much, so maybe they weren’t upset.

“Is he okay?” I stammered.

“Is who okay?” Jeremy asked, and I blinked
several times before I saw realization dawn. “Who, Kevin? Yeah, he’s fine,” he said,
rushing the words out, and I felt my world start to right itself, my pounding heart
no longer threatening an attack. “It was just a fender bender. He has some whiplash,
no big deal. Are you alright?”

I immediately started to regain my composure.
“Sure,” I said standing up. My legs were still shaking, and I could hear a tremor
in my voice but hoped I could pass it off. “I drank too much last night, been throwing
up all morning. Thought I might toss it again. Sorry.” I started walking again as
the guys exchanged confused glances.

“You sure, man?” Mike asked.

“Totally, just had too much fun is all.
With Kevin out of commission, you guys still want to head to Old Dogs tonight?”

Jeremy took the bait, “Honestly, I’d
rather not. I have a shitload of homework I’m behind on and if I let my grades drop,
my parents will kick my ass.” I briefly wondered if he really meant they’d literally
kick his ass or if it was just a figure of speech for him. I narrowed my eyes curiously
at him, trying to detect the physical signs of violence. Even though I didn’t see
any, I knew well enough that no visible signs didn’t mean anything.

“Fuck, I’d much rather be seeing my
woman. I say we call it good,” Brett offered. While Kevin was around, we all pretty
much did what he wanted, but when he disappeared, we had started to split up over
the last few months.

The second we got to school, I found
an opportunity to duck out and text Kevin.
I’m coming over.

Kevin

The light from my phone alerted me to
a new message. I stared blankly at the screen for a few minutes before responding.
Fine.
I took a deep breath and started to count backwards from a hundred.
By the time I reached one, I felt I was ready for whatever Rick was going to hand
me. I was positive he was going to tell me to fuck off after everything I’d told
him. Within a few minutes of focusing myself, I felt my anxiety start to build again.
I fumbled in my jacket pocket for the joint I knew was there, and went downstairs
to take a few hits, hoping to pull the edge out of my nerves. By the time he showed
up, I had to work real fucking hard to keep the bite out of my tone. If he let me
have it, then I deserved it. I couldn’t blame him for hating me after what I'd done
to him.

“Hey,” I said flatly.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” I felt short answers were better,
less of a chance for me to be an asshole.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

He shuffled his feet nervously. “You’re
not acting fine.”

“How the fuck is fine supposed to act?”
I shook my head at myself.
Goddamn nerves,
I thought.

“Why you being like this?”

“Like what?” Again, I knew I was being
a prick, but I couldn’t help it. I was waiting for the words that would take
him from me, and I just couldn’t seem to find any way to be okay with what I knew
he’d say.

“When I heard, I was so worried—”

I cut him off, “Heard what?” I asked,
confused.

“About the accident.”

My mind shifted gears. “What accident?”

 “Last night?”

“How the fuck did you hear about that?”
I hadn’t talked to anyone about it. A fucking fender bender was hardly something
to be upset about.

“The guys.”

“How the fuck do they know?” My mind
started racing. People knowing shit about me without my knowledge pissed me right
the fuck off. He stammered, seeing my anxiety turn into full-fledged anger. Before
he could get a response out, the pieces started to fall into place in my head. One
of the cops on scene was a friend of my father’s from church. I’d lay odds that
Jim Taylor had told his wife, and once she found out, the whole goddamn congregation
was bound to know. It was only a matter of time before word got to Mike’s parents,
who in turn probably mentioned something to him. And with a deep release of breath,
I focused again on Rick. “Nevermind. Is that why you’re here?” I felt my defenses
slipping back into place. “To make sure poor Kevin didn’t get hurt in the car accident?”
He hadn’t come over to even talk about what the hell was going on with us, only
to play good old Saint Ricky and check on me.

His eyes started to gloss over, and
I immediately recognized the emotion playing across his face.

“It’s just…” he stammered. “When I heard
about the car accident…” the tears slipped down his cheeks. “The last time…”

“Oh, god!” Realization slammed into
me. “Oh no! Fuck, Rick, I’m okay.” I rushed and caught him as he started to crumble
with his memories. I felt him flinch and knew he must have taken a beating from
his dad recently.

“I just thought... I mean, they said
you were okay, but I had to make sure,” he sobbed into my arms.

“Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry!
I didn’t think. I’m okay, Rick.” I pulled away from him a little, placing his face
in the palms of my hands. “See, I’m okay.” I tried to get him to look at me.

He caved into my arms again, crying
harder. “I know. It’s just…. for a minute there I thought I’d lost you.”

I found myself holding onto him tighter
though still careful of his pain, whispering my apologies. “Rick, I am so sorry.
Please forgive me.” My words rushed out in a breath of emotion, begging forgiveness
for everything I’d done to him. I kissed his wet cheeks, tasting the saltiness of
his tears. My lips searched out his mouth, trying to connect our bodies so he could
feel what was in my heart.

As he calmed down I finally dared to
ask what I dreaded. “Are we going to be okay?” I held my breath as I waited for
him to answer.

“Yeah, I think so.” He pulled in closer
to me, his tears still falling lightly into my damp shirt. I let out a long sigh.

“You think so?” I needed more than a
half-assed answer.

“As long as you’re telling me the truth
now…”

“I am,” I interrupted him.

“I hope so.” I knew it would take him
time to trust me again, but as long as he was willing to try, I knew I could prove
to him that what I felt was real. I just needed time.

Rick

While there was still a part of me that
was wary, I wanted to trust him. I let him take the lead and watched as he tried
to prove himself to me. At times, it was almost funny. He’d get so tongue-tied trying
to say the right things. I had to admit I enjoyed watching him squirm, and would
intentionally let him try to talk himself out of a hole just for my own enjoyment.
Without the lies between us anymore, things were easier, as long as I didn’t let
myself get into my head too much. When I did, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was
my savior or the demon that would drag me to hell. He seemed to sense when I was
having a hard time with things and would become gentle, giving me space to battle
my doubts.

“I can’t believe we’re graduating in
just under two months,” I said one day while sitting with him at a pizza joint.

“Where the fuck has this year gone?
Shit, I feel like I just got you in my bed and here we are making plans to get the
hell out of here in August, like we’re married or some crazy shit like that.”

 We talked about leaving all the time,
but I was still unsure if a life with him was what I wanted. He picked up on my
mood.

“Listen, you don’t have to make up your
mind today. You don’t even have to commit to being with me, but we both need to
get out of here. It’s too dangerous to stay.” I could feel the wounded pride behind
his words, and knew he was hurt but trying to put on a brave mask for me.

 We sat waiting for our food to come.
Thankfully, in an effort to appear like the cool father, Kevin’s dad let him borrow
the car occasionally, though he kept tabs on the mileage to make sure Kevin didn’t
abuse the privilege. Thus, Kevin had taken up the responsibility of getting me to
my guitar lessons each week, and we usually grabbed a bite to eat before heading
home. I positioned my elbow on the table in an arm-wrestling stance and smirked
at him, trying to change the subject. His eyes lit up.

“I don’t know why I always try this,”
I laughed. “You always slaughter me anyway.”

“Cause you like it when I show you how
tough I am,” he teased, patting his muscles, which admittedly turned me on. Then
he wrapped his fingers around mine and placed his elbow firmly on the table. “Are
you ready?”

“Go,” I said, smiling. We struggled
for a few seconds. I knew he wasn’t trying very hard because he could usually take
me down pretty quick. After another second or so, he slammed my arm back onto the
table. I challenged him again, even though I knew he’d win, but I liked to see how
long I could keep him from winning. Sometimes it was only a second, but sometimes
I felt I put up a decent struggle. I’d even been known to beat him a few times.
Granted, it was usually after he'd been drinking quite a bit. We went a few more
times until he insisted we stop. He won every time, with ease.

“Seriously, I don’t wanna hurt you,”
he laughed.

“Oh come on, just one more time,” I
reached out for his arm just as our food was brought to the table. We sat talking
easily about the rest of the school year and where we thought the guys would end
up five years after graduation. About halfway through our pizza, a family came in
and sat at a table behind us. Before even sitting down the dad looked as us and
rolled his eyes. Apparently deciding he didn’t like the way we looked, he murmured
under his breath, “Punks.” A familiar anger flushed Kevin’s face and he started
to push off the table. I grabbed his arm and felt him tense under my restraint.

“Please don’t,” I pleaded. He looked
at me and back at the family. They weren’t even paying attention to us anymore.

“And why the hell not?” he spat at me
as he sat back down.

“Because, he has his kids here.”

“What’s it to me?”

“They’re kids, Kevin!”

“Whatever,” he said, standing up again,
but this time he stormed out of the restaurant, putting distance between himself
and the man. I threw enough money on the table to cover our meal and walked after
him. Granted, we didn’t fight as much, but he was still as big of a hothead as always.

“Where to?” he grumbled as he slid into
the car. I shrugged my shoulders. I hated it when he copped an attitude with me,
and I found it easier to keep my mouth shut. “Fine!” he said, slamming the car into
gear and taking off.

I rolled down my window. It was warmer
than usual for this time of year, and I loved it. I felt like my bones were finally
beginning to thaw after all the snow.

“You’re gonna get a ticket,” I said
after he ran his third red light.

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