Let Love Live (The Love Series #5) (20 page)

Having meant what I said to Dylan, going home was no longer an option. So I didn’t. Unfortunately, since Alex had found me at the motel, staying there an extra night wasn’t an option either. So I slept in my car that first night.

Calling Dylan the first day had proven to be futile; he hadn’t answered a single one of my calls or texts. I shot Reid a quick text letting him know that I’d be out for the night. His response was immediate.

Sure. But we gotta talk when you get home.

I hadn’t been home yet and Dylan had left me exactly thirty-eight hours ago. It was cold and I was getting hungry. I had a few bucks on me, enough to last me through the day. But now that night had rolled out across the sky, the temperature was dropping and I knew I had to go home eventually.

But not for good. I was only going home to grab some clothes and the money I had stashed away so that I could leave. Dad beating up Mom over a mess in the kitchen, me over a lost scholarship and Reid over a late night out was not how I wanted to spend the rest of my life. It’d taken me more than twenty-four hours since Dylan left me to realize that he was where I belonged, not here.

I pulled up to a 7-11 with the intention of draining my measly bank account and grabbing a quick bite to eat. It was past midnight by the time I paid for my Gatorade and roll. As I slid the key into my car door, I felt a cold stillness creep up from behind me. A strong hand fell to my shoulder and twisted me around.

Scott.

“You fucked with my sister?” He shoved me back against the car door.

Just as I started to say something, his hand was clenched tightly around my throat. I couldn’t speak; the air just wouldn’t make its way into my lungs. “Aw, what’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” he mocked before he laughed like a maniac. “Nah, I bet you’ve never had pussy near this mouth. More like cock got your throat, right?” His knee landed in my gut, forcing whatever air I’d had in my lungs out of my mouth in a sharp painful blast.

When he let go of me, I doubled over in pain. His fist met my face as I bent over to wrap my arms around my stomach. “Fucking fag.” His spit landed on the top of my head, dripped down over my ear. “And to think,” he grabbed my collar and pulled my face to within an inch of his, “all this time, I only thought Dylan was the homo. You two were probably fucking like porn stars that summer.”

He landed an upper cut to my jaw and I heard something crack. “Your secret’s out now, queer. So don’t you worry,” his voice was sugary sweet, the kind you’d use if you were talking to a baby, but there was evil hidden beneath it. “You don’t have to tell a single soul about you and your homo
boyfriend
.” His last word tumbled from his mouth like the worst of curses. “Alex and I took care of that for you.”

He took once last shot, a right hook straight across my face, forcing me to fall to the ground. “Dear old Dad must be so proud of you.” He stood over me, spit on me once more, and jogged away before anyone could see him.

I sat there in the shadows nursing my wounds. I could barely see well enough to drive. My eye was swelling shut and the blood was flowing from my nose.

When I drove past my house, I was glad to see that the lights were out. I parked down the street, not wanting to make any noise by pulling in the driveway.

Sneaking in like I had a million times before, I was lucky everyone was sound asleep. Silently slipping into the bathroom, I was thankful that no one had heard me. Utter disgust filled me as I stared at my bloodied and beaten reflection in the mirror.

I had to sneak into my own freaking house, to clean my wounds from being beaten up because I was gay. And when my father found out, which, according to Scott, it sounded like Alex had already taken care of that, I was bound for worse than a broken nose and a black eye.

The only other option I had wouldn’t pick up his phone. I tried him once more, despite my fear of waking someone up. It went straight to voicemail, didn’t even ring. He’d officially shut me out.

I had nowhere to go.

Quickly, I washed my face and walked across the narrow hall to my room. I sat on the edge of the bed as Reid lay across his, deep asleep and snoring like crazy.

The tears came on full force when my eyes landed on a picture of Reid, Dylan, and me from when we were younger – before I became the fuck-up that I was today.

It was simpler back then, somehow. Hearing Dylan’s words of how I was weak and pathetic float around in my brain forced my raw emotions to the surface. My throat closed and tears sprung to my eyes.

An angry chorus of voices filled my head.

Homo

Fag

Queer

Loser

Weak

Fuck-up

“Worthless,” I added my own insult as a quiet sob rose in my chest. I cried – for all the years I kept everything bottled up, for all the ‘yes, sirs’ spoken to my father, for all the hidden truths I’d kept concealed, for all the wasted time I’d spent with Alex when all I’d really wanted was Dylan. I cried for everything I’d screwed up, for everything I’d broken, for everything I’d lost.

“Shane,” Reid whispered, as he sat up in his bed, blinked his eyes a few times. “You’re home.” The relief in his voice was palpable, but it did nothing to stop the tears from flowing.

He sat next to me on the bed, not really sure what to say, I’m sure. I winced as I wiped at my cheeks and Reid caught sight of the bruises there. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Dad?” His single word threw me even deeper into the dark hole in which I already existed.

A nasty, sarcastic laugh flew past my lips. “Not this time.”

“Shane, what the hell is going on? You’ve been gone for two days and now you’re back in the middle of the night beaten up like some kind of punching bag. And Alex…”

Shooting up from the bed, hatred vibrated everywhere around me. “Don’t even fucking say her name.”

He hung his head low, but I saw the look of shame plastered there. “What did she do?” I gritted out the words through what I was sure was my broken jaw.

“Are you?” he whispered his half-question. He didn’t need to finish the rest of it; I knew what he was getting at. The fact that he was even asking it at all was enough for me to know he already knew.

“Yeah, I am.” The confession rolled off my tongue much more easily than I thought it would. I sat next to him on the bed fully expecting him to slide away from me. I didn’t know what else he knew, why he had brought up Alex’s name, so I just left it at that.

He did shift, but only to turn closer to me. He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed a movement of affection, not of anger. “I figured as much, man. You know I’m fine with it, right?”

Relief like I’d never known rushed over me. “I do now. Thanks.” I hung my head, still feeling ashamed of who I was to even look Reid in the face. “So what happened with Alex?”

“She got to me,” he admitted.

I picked my head up, confused. “What?”

“Last night. After work. She met me in the parking lot. Got me drunk, Flirted with me.” He stood from the bed and started pacing the room like a caged animal. “Look Shane, you have to believe me. I tried to stop her. I really did. She…well, she…umm…” Even though he was chewing on his words, completely unable to spit anything intelligible out, I knew what he was hinting at.

He raked his hands through his hair and pitched his voice low. “There’s no easy way to say it, so I’m just throwing it out there. She came on to me and took advantage.” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling as he spoke. “We fucked.”

My stomach dropped as the sickness washed over me. Not because of what they had done – correction, of what
she
had done to
him
. What made me feel a gnawing void in the pit of my being was wondering
why
she had done it.

“I’m sorry, bro.” His apology was sincere and I could never hate him. “There’s more.” Reid kept his eyes glued to the ceiling. “She said something about having sex with you, and I gave her an odd look. When I stuttered over a few words, I think I gave something away.”

“But, how? I mean, I only just told you.” The room began to spin. Sure, she had seen me with Dylan; she had all the proof she needed, but somehow hearing it from Reid probably cemented it in her head.

“You’re my brother.” His eyes were glassy – whether it was from me waking him up in the middle of the night or from the burn of emotion there, I didn’t know, but those three words spoke more than he could ever know.

With the sheer exhaustion of the last few days weighing me down, I flopped back on my bed. He hadn’t said anything about Dylan and I was going to keep his role in all of this as secret as possible, not because I was ashamed of him, but simply because I needed to protect him. Everything that had happened flew around in my brain. Ideas lit up and faded into the darkness like lightning bugs in the summer nights.

Summer.

Baseball.

Dylan.

I needed him. He made me whole. He accepted me.

But now he hated me.

And now, I was truly alone.

I toed off my shoes, letting them drop to the floor in a loud
thunk
, before pulling the covers over me. “I’m gonna get some sleep.” I spoke to the wall and heard Reid mumble that he was there for me.

He could say it all he wanted, but I knew I had no one. I had screwed up everything and Reid suffered because of it. Apparently, my fuckedupness knew no bounds. 

Having slept in my car the previous night exhausted me. I slept much later than I had intended, so even though I was lucky enough to avoid my father the next morning, the afternoon was rolling on and I needed to get out of my house now.

With my duffle bag loaded, I took one last look at my room. A numb cloud of nothingness hung over me. I stopped midway down the stairs as I heard the front door open. I couldn’t decide if I was happy that it was Reid and not my father. He’d want to know what I was doing, where I was going. He’d more than likely try to talk me into staying, or beg to come with me.

“Where are you going?” Reid stood calmly at the base of the stairs, not giving an inch as I tried to move past him.

“Away.” I needed to keep it simple. Saying goodbye to Reid would break me.

He grabbed my arm, twisted me to face him. “Take me with you.” His jaw was clenched tightly, but his eyes – they begged me. He’d seen the worst of what Dad could be; he knew my deepest secrets and still stood by my side.

As my shoulders sagged under the immense pressure of everything, I dropped my bag.  The front door opened and our father slid in. “Fine,” I whispered so Dad couldn’t hear me. “Tomorrow. Just don’t say anything.”

Dad turned the corner just as I finished my sentence. His cold eyes traveled over me from head to toe, stopping on the bag at my feet. “Going somewhere?” He crossed him arms over his chest, glaring at me the whole time.

“No, sir.” Both Reid and I stood there, used to the drill: eyes cast down, words kept to a minimum, disagreements non-existent. I hoped the inquisition would pass quickly and mostly pain-free.