Violence Begets... (9 page)

“You’re serious, aren’t you? You really
need me to come?” I asked, dreading the idea.

“Duh, I wouldn’t call…” He trailed off,
distracted by something.

I sat up in bed, trying to wake myself
up, turning on the lamp by my bed and squeezing my eyes shut at the harshness of
the light. “Jason?” No answer. “Jason?” I said more insistently.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. You should see
this girl. She’s dancing. Wow! Hey, can you come get me?”

“Jason,” I paused, trying to figure
out what to say. I really didn’t want to go get him. But on the other hand he had
never called me for a ride, so he must really need one. I sighed, “Fine, where are
you?”

“Take
dad’s car. I think his keys are—”

“I know where his keys are Jas. Can
you tell me where you are?”

“Hmmm,” he started to laugh. “You know
I really don’t know. That’s funny. Should be something I know, huh little bro?”

“Can you find out?”

“High school maybe, maybe by your guitar
lesson place. Gosh, I think I’m lost!” he giggled. “Guitar! How’s that going anyway?”

“What? My classes? They’re fine, Jas.
You know that. Is there someone sober I can talk to?”

“Why? Why can’t you speak to me? You
know you love you right? I mean, I love you, right?”

“I know Jason, just let me talk to someone
who knows where you are so I can come get you.”

“Right. Right. Yeah, okay. Hold on.”

Several minutes later I realized the
phone line was dead, so I called him back.

“Where’d you go?” he slurred.

“Did you find someone?” I asked.

“Someone what? Are you coming for me?”

“Jason,” I said patiently. “Let me talk
to someone who knows where you are.” I almost laughed at how funny he was being.

“Oh, yeah, right.” I heard him asking
around for someone who could give me directions, and he finally located a nice girl
who politely told me how to get there. I jotted the directions down and asked to
talk with Jason again. It seemed he had wandered off, and it took her some time
to find him. Finally, he returned to the phone.

“Hey, little bro. What you doin’?”

“I’m on my way, Jas. I should be there
in about twenty-five minutes. You good until then?”

“Sure! I’m happy right now.”

I hung up and slipped into the jeans
I had worn the day before, grabbed one of my t-shirts, which actually used to be
Jason’s, and threw it on. Within a few minutes, I was on my way. He’d been right
about being close to my guitar classes, so I wasn’t too worried about finding my
way.

The party was still in full swing when
I got there. I guessed this was what happened when a bunch of high school kids got
together on the 4th of July without any supervision. I had to park nearly a block
away because there were so many cars there.

As I approached the house, I noticed
he was out on the front lawn wrestling with some of his buddies. It didn’t surprise
me that even in his drunken state he was still able to stay on top of them. I stopped
and watched him, overcome with what could best be described as pride, seeing him
as others saw him. Even drunk, he was kind and considerate to everyone there. He
was obviously the life of the party. Being surrounded with good-looking guys and
gorgeous girls didn’t seem to even faze him. I couldn’t imagine his life. I wasn’t
jealous of him; I just wondered what it’d be like. Girls there seemed to adore him,
and he treated each of them as if they were special to him. He truly cared for everyone
he came into contact with.

He spotted me and half jogged, half
stumbled in my direction. “Hey, Rick. What you doin’ here?”

I laughed as he wrapped his arms around
me in a big hug. He was never scared to show people that he loved me. “I came to
get you, you fool. Are you ready?”

“Sure.” Without looking behind him he
raised his arm, waved and shouted. “Later everyone, brother’s here to carry me home.”

“Jas, shh,” I laughed. “It’s after 4:30
in the morning. People are sleeping.”

“Right.” He laughed with me. He raised
his arm again and whispered very quietly, “Later, guys.”

“Come on, you drunk.” I said wrapping
my arm around his waist to help balance him and guide him to the car.”

After much conversation I could barely
understand, I settled him into the car. Once we were on the road he said, “Think
I might be sick, better close my eyes.”

“Go ahead.”

“You are the greatest brother in the
world. I’m so lucky. I love you!”

“I’m lucky, too, Jason. And I love you
as well. Now close your eyes,” I said, smiling at him.

He patted me on my arm and leaned towards
the window with his eyes closed. I marveled at how amazing he was, but concerns
of him going off to college and leaving me alone with my dad and Sylvia troubled
my mind. I watched the road carefully, paying attention to the other cars and the
freeway exits flying by. Finally arriving at our exit, I pulled onto the main stretch
of road leading to our neighborhood. As I gained speed I glanced in the rearview
mirror for any cops. The last thing I wanted was to be pulled over without a license.
As I brought my eyes back to the main road a brown flash flooded the headlights.
My mind grasped that it was some type of animal just as I gripped the steering wheel
and yanked it to the left, bracing myself by slamming my foot down, which hit the
gas and the car sped up. I cranked the wheel to the right, trying to gain control.

I heard Jason say, “What the hell…?”
just as the car spun and flipped.

I was screaming.

“Rick! Rick! Relax,” someone was commanding
me. I twisted, turned, and yanked away from the hands gripping me.

“Jason! Jason!” I screamed.

“Rick, it’s Kevin. Relax.”

“Where is he? Where is he?”

“Shhh, open your eyes.”

“No! He’s not dead! No!” I yelled as
I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t open them and see Jason’s bloody body lying
on the street.

“Rick, open your
eyes. Come back
to me. It’s Kevin. You’re okay. Rick!”

His tone was harsh and the fear in it
startled me. I blinked several times, and Kevin came into focus. I was lying on
my bathroom floor and he was straddling me, gripping my wrists. I pushed him off
and curled up on my side. The tears wouldn’t stop.

“He’s dead. I killed him,” I sobbed.
Kevin moved closer, and I felt him tentatively lay a hand on my back. He remained
silent as I cried, unable to control the wrenching waves of pain.

Kevin

What the holy fuck was that? A brother?
A goddamn brother? It explained everything, but how the hell had I missed it?

Shit, one second I’d been completely
shrooming, and the next Rick was lying in a pile of vomit, screaming. I had no idea
what the fuck I was supposed to do. I’d climbed on top of him, and was just about
to punch him to try to get him to snap out of it when he came back.

Between his sobs, I pieced together
the events leading to Jason’s death. I now understood what had prompted the move
to Utah. The idea that Sylvia was jealous of Rick’s mom had never set well with
me and this made more sense, but when he started talking about how his dad blamed
him for Jason’s death and how he felt it really was his fault, I had to stop him.

“That’s some pretty heavy shit, Rick,
but it’s not your fucking fault. It was a goddamn accident!” I snarled at him, angrier
than intended. I felt murderous rage towards his dad but not him. Somehow, I’d gotten
him in the shower and cleaned up. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t thinking
about sex when I was with a naked guy. Then, against my better fucking judgment,
I actually laid down with him and held him as he cried. As soon as he passed out,
I was up and out of his bed like a goddamn cheetah.

Needing to get shitfaced, I did one
of the most fucked up things I’d ever done in my life—I left Rick alone. Any normal
person would’ve considered the fact that his dad was sure to come home drunk, looking
to take out his pain on the person he held responsible for the death of his favorite
son. But the tugging at my heart and the foreign feelings of compassion and concern
made me want to get away from Rick as fast as fucking possible. There was no way
in hell I was going to spare a second thought on him, although every cell in my
body screamed that he was the only thing I should be considering.

After checking in with my father, I
nursed a bottle of whiskey while I waited for him to go to bed. As soon as he was
out for the night I called a cab. The ride to Normandy was annoyingly long since
I was itching to get fucked up. Every muscle in my body tensed as I fought the images
of Rick screaming in a crumpled mess on his bathroom floor. The animalistic pain
that had escaped from him rattled the fuck out of me. What fucked with me the most
was the fact that I hadn’t seen it coming, and that was a goddamn problem.

Franko sent a shot my way the moment
I walked in the door, and it must have been written all over me because he ordered
up two more without asking.

“Be careful tonight,” he cautioned as
I went on the prowl.

The club party eventually moved to the
house of a guy named Danny, where I ended up dancing with some little twink named
Charlie. It took under five minutes to get him into a bedroom where I fucked him
with more anger than I’d had in years. I took it slow at first, gauging his reactions,
but the more violent I got the more he seemed to get into things. I had picked the
right guy for the kind of night I needed. I got him off several times for every
one time I got off, but I wasn’t there to get off. I was there to fucking hurt someone,
and Charlie was more than happy to play the part for me.

Rick

“Time to wake up, you worthless piece
of shit,” my dad slurred, tearing me abruptly out of my restless sleep. I rolled
away from him, instantly covering my head for protection. As my knee slammed into
the wall I had time to briefly consider the fact that Kevin was no longer lying
next to me. Then, I felt my dad’s hands grasp at my body, hauling the blankets and
me out of my bed. He dragged me out of my room, and I was thankful I hadn't realized
his intention to throw me down the stairs or I might have braced myself and broken
several bones. I landed and skidded to a halt at the bottom as he stumbled down
after me, clearly not done.

He picked me up and spun me around,
slamming a backhand across my face. He didn’t release my arm, and the full force
of it propelled my head back. Blow after brutal blow followed.
He must be getting
tired. He must be close to stopping,
I thought. I tried to focus my mind on
something other than the pain. Kevin wasn’t scared of anything. He wouldn’t let
anyone do this to him. How would he handle it? I had to learn to take the pain,
to not let it bother me. I had to be stronger than my dad’s fists. It was temporary
and would be over soon.

At the same time, my mind fought to
embrace the torture. I’d killed Jason. I deserved this—the taste of blood in my
mouth, the smell of my dad’s cologne (the smell was nice; I think Jason had worn
it), the smell of alcohol, the same way Jason had smelled when I’d picked him up
at the party. It all kept coming back to Jason. I was in a ball on the floor, trying
to disappear, and he kept picking me up to give himself a larger target to hit.
He held all my weight since my legs couldn’t manage the task.
This isn’t happening
to me,
I thought. Things were spinning and I was brought back to the pain. My
mouth was watering. I could taste the blood but didn’t know if it was coming from
inside my mouth or from some cut on my face. Everything was out of focus. I felt
like I was about to throw up. He shook me hard, and I focused again, pain screaming
from my throbbing body.

He slammed me against the wall. “You
deserve to die for what you did.”

I couldn’t argue with him.

“I should kill you!”

And I wished he would. He raged at me,
then shoved me into the wall again. My head exploded with pain and little lights
immediately flashed throughout the room. Then the pain slowly started to disappear.
I wondered if Jason had seen little lights as he died.

My dad was gone and I was on the floor
in the kitchen. One of my eyes wouldn’t open and the other was nearly swollen shut.
The taste of blood was still in my mouth, salty and metallic like a penny. He must
have cooked something to eat because the air in the kitchen smelled greasy. I couldn’t
move, and for a moment I wondered if I’d been paralyzed by his brutality, but then
I realized my body simply didn’t want to embrace the pain. I gritted my teeth and
let the tears come, as I forced myself to crawl to my phone. It was lying on the
coffee table where I’d left it while playing video games with Kevin. It was hard
to believe that had only been a few hours ago. I had to get out of the house. I
stretched my arm as far as I could, trying to reach the phone, but the pain wouldn’t
allow it. I had to sit up more. Finally, I was able to clench my fist around it
and I gasped for breath, waiting for my body to handle the daggers it was sending
out. Through one squinted eye I dialed Kevin’s number.

“Yeah?” he answered, sounding tired.

“It’s me,” I forced out.

“Yeah?” he said again.

I swallowed hard, but the words wouldn’t
come.

“Rick? You there?”

“Help,” I breathed out, unsure if the
word actually made it out of my mouth.

“You okay? Rick?”

I was getting dizzy again and I felt
myself starting to fall, my body screaming as I hit the floor.

Someone shook my shoulder lightly and
I recoiled before I heard Kevin’s mumbled, “Fuck.” I opened my eyes and closed them
again. Lights flashed and faded.

“Get me out of here.” Again, I wasn’t
sure if I was actually talking or just thinking the words. Things began to spin
again and I felt myself slipping. I heard him calling my name from far away as I
struggled to stay with him. But he was gone.

It still hurt. I woke to a dull ache,
but the pain was not nearly as bad as I’d expected. Where was I? I focused my eyes
in the darkness and saw Kevin in a chair next to wherever it was I was lying. His
arms were folded across his chest and his head was bowed, his dark hair covering
his face from my sight. From the soft snores escaping his mouth, I knew he was asleep.
I realized I was in his room and it was dark. I searched for a clock and found one;
it was 11:17 PM. I shifted in the bed, trying to sit upright, and my movement startled
Kevin. His eyes shot open, and he immediately looked at his door, then to me. He
quickly looked around the room, gathering his bearings, then relaxed back into his
chair.

“How ya feelin’?” he asked, wiping the
sleep from his eyes.

“Better than I thought I would.”

“Yeah, I’ve kept you pretty drugged
up.”

“How’d we get here?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No,” I said, trying to piece together
my last memories. “I think I remember calling you. Did I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“When was that?”

“In the middle of the fucking night.”

I looked at the clock again, “It’s only
eleven.”

“Last night.”

“I’ve been here all day?”

“Yeah.”

“Your dad?” I asked.

“Left town this afternoon. He’ll be
back day after tomorrow.”

“How’d I get here?” I repeated.

“I came and got you. Brought you back,”
he said shortly.

“My dad?”

“Passed the fuck out when I got to your
house. Good thing. I didn’t want to have to fuck him up to get you out of there.”

“But how? How did we get here? I don’t
remember anything.”

“You were pretty out of it, but we managed.
Wasn’t easy, but,” he paused, “well, I had to get you away from him.”

“Did you have help?”

“No.”

“You got me up here by yourself?” I
couldn’t seem to concentrate on any of the real issues, focusing instead on how
I had gotten to his house.

“It’s not that big of a deal. You hungry?”
he asked, getting up from his chair.

“No, not so much.”

“I’m gonna make me something. You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

When he came back he had two grilled
cheese sandwiches.

“Figured you might want this anyway,”
he said, putting the plate down on the nightstand.

“Thanks.” I said, still not much interested
in eating. “I could use a smoke.”

“Think you can manage getting outside?
Here, take a few shots first. It’ll help numb ya up a bit.” After a few shots, I
hesitated as he reached down for my elbow. “Let me help you,” he commanded at my
resistance. I felt a flash of anger at having to depend on him. However, my legs
weakened and the room spun as soon as I stood and he reached out to steady me with
both hands. “Sure you can make it?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just go slow.”
He led me down the hallway and through the basement living room.

“Hold on to the couch,” he said as he
unlocked the door leading outside. He pushed open the attached screen door and propped
it open before returning to help me.

“So, why is it that you always seem
to be coming to my rescue?” I asked once he had me settled in a patio chair. My
lips were both swollen, and dragging on the smoke made me conscious of just how
much my dad had messed me up.

I noticed, not for the first time, how
Kevin made sure to hold the cigarette far from his body, letting the slight breeze
blow the smoke away from him. I figured this was a trick he used to minimize the
smell of smoke on his clothes. The crickets chirped in chorus around us as I stared
at the stars, waiting for him to answer.

“No rescue would’ve been needed this
time, if I hadn’t left you there in the first place,” he said slowly. “I should’ve
known your dad would be gunning for you after the shit you told me.”

“Not your fault.”

“Still.”

“And what would you’ve done? Finding
you in my room in the middle of the night would’ve only made it worse.”

“I should’ve gotten you out of there,”
he mumbled.

“Knock it off,” I said irritably.

“What?”

“I mean, I can’t quite figure out what
you’re after. Don’t take this wrong, but you’re an ass.”

His eyes narrowed a little as he glanced
sideways at me. A warning? I had a feeling he wouldn’t nail me in my condition,
so I proceeded. “I mean, you’re not one to really care much about others.”

“And who says I care about you?”

“Then why get all bent about leaving
me alone?”

“I’m not all bad.”

“But you’re not….good.” I stammered.

“Well, Rick,” he took a long drag on
his smoke, “I know a thing or two about keeping secrets.”

“Yeah, and what are you hiding?”

“They wouldn’t be secrets if I told
you, now would they?” he said, his voice calm, not betraying anything.

“Well, you know mine.”

“And you won’t know mine.” He flicked
his smoke and reached out for my arm again to help me back inside.

“I’m fine,” I said, pulling away from
him.

He turned and walked away with a shrug,
leaving me to regret my insistence on independence. Slowly and painfully, I eventually
made it into his room. He sprayed some cologne on me as I walked in, masking the
smell of smoke on me almost completely. I was thankful my dad drank and smoked because
I didn’t have to work nearly as hard keeping it from him. “You’re staying here for
a few days,” he commanded.