Let Love Live (The Love Series #5) (21 page)

“Inside.” His single-word command was laced with so much contempt I could feel it in my bones. “Now.”

Reid walked in front of me and when I fell in line behind him, Dad kicked out his foot, dropping me to the cold, hard tile floor.

I couldn’t even get my hands out quick enough. My chin hit the ceramic tile with a loud cracking noise. Pain lanced through my head as I felt the pressure of his knee landing on my back.

“Leave him alone!” Reid yelled, racing back toward us. He barreled into Dad and managed to get him off me, but that didn’t stop Dad from coming back even harder.

He elbowed Reid in the gut, knocking him to the ground as he fought for air. “You,” he seethed, pointing a finger in my direction. I skittered back on my ass, using my hands and heels for whatever leverage I could gain. The edge of the bottom step lodged into my back where Dad’s knee had been and I gasped in pain.

He bent down, pulled me up by the collar of my shirt. “You a fag?” He titled his head to the side, looking at me like the deranged maniac that he was. He spun me around, shoved me up against the wall. A family picture came crashing down over my head.

Appropriate
, I thought to myself as a flippant laugh came out. “You think this is funny?” He crushed his knee into my crotch and I crumbled before him.

The pain was unbearable. Vomit rose in my throat and erupted out of my mouth. Reid tried to fight back, stumbling to his feet when he could finally breathe again.

“You’re a fucking monster!” Reid screamed in Dad’s face.

Monster was probably the most accurate description I could come up with. Dad cocked his arm back and landed a punch square to Reid’s nose. Blood spurted everywhere as Reid groaned in pain. He slid down the wall, cupping his bashed nose in his hands.

Crouched in front of me, Dad shoved my face in my own throw up. “You disgust me. You sorry excuse for…for…everything.”

With one final shove into my own puke, he stood before me and kicked me in the stomach as I lay there curled to my side. Something broke in me right then. Whatever fight I thought I had instantly vanished, almost as if it had never been there in the first place.

Blood pounded in my ears so I didn’t even hear her walk in. Mom gasped loud enough to draw Dad’s attention away from me. I was too broken to stand, to speak, to do anything really.

As I watched him stalk toward her and raise his hand, all I could hear were Dylan’s words.

“You’re weak and pathetic.”

His backhanded slap threw her back with such force that she crashed into the wall behind her. “Your son’s a fucking homo. But I bet you already knew that.” His glare bounced back and forth from me, to Mom and then back to Reid. “You all probably knew it. Goddamn conspiracy to make me look like a fool. Imagine how shocked I was when Alex found me, showed me all the pictures.”

“Thomas, leave them alone.” Mom stumbled to her feet, her voice stronger than I had ever heard it.

“Stay out of this. You’re just as useless as they are.” He brushed past her, slammed and locked the front door. “You’re all staying here until I figure out how to deny everything Alex says is all over the place. You will not sully my name. You will not make this family look bad.”

He strode back over to me, pulled me up by the collar once more. “Now, clean this mess up and get out of my face. You’re no longer my son. May as well be dead for all I care.”

“Rebecca, get in the kitchen now. It’s almost dinner time.” She followed behind him, like the battered and broken woman she was. Reid helped me clean up the hallway, mopping up the blood and vomit mixture with a few towels.

Wordlessly, we walked up to our room, tended to our wounds and stared at our ceiling.

“Shane.” Mom knelt beside my bed. I had to have fallen asleep because the room was pitch black and Reid snored lightly in his bed on the other side of the room.

“Mom.” She reached down and clasped our hands together. I couldn’t see her; the room was too dark, but I knew she had been crying. I could hear it in the rasp of her voice.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.” I nodded, my head throbbing in violent pain. Surely, I’d needed medical attention, but that was always out of the question.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be fine,” I lied.

“We’ll figure it out. It’ll get better. Maybe we can leave and just hope he won’t find us.” Before she could say more, we both heard my father’s stumbling footsteps from the hallway. “I have to go, but we’ll figure it out. I promise, baby.”

As the door softly clicked behind her, I vowed that he would never be able to find me.

One last call. It went straight to voicemail, just as I’d expected.

“Dylan, I’m sorry I couldn’t be everything you needed, everything you deserved. I love you. I always will. I’m sorry.” I choked back the numb tears. My insides were hollow; my life was empty.

One last letter.

Mom & Reid,

I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to deal with the pain. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough for you both; you deserve more than that, more than me. Please know that I tried to think of a better way, I really did. There just isn’t. So this is how it has to be; it’s too difficult otherwise.

Shane

I licked the envelope closed, tossed it on Reid’s pillow, and walked across the hall to the bathroom. Everyone was gone. Dad had left for work, but not before creeping in my room, telling me to be here when he got home later. Reid left for school, his face bruised and body haggard. I wasn’t sure where Mom was. At work, I’d assumed.

It was just me and my failures, my sadness, my
nothingness
.

That there was nothing left at all was a harsh reality to face.

Looking down at the handful of Mom’s sleeping pills, I thought to count them, but there was no point. After swallowing back as many as I could, I leaned against the sink. Thoughts of Dad finding me if I had the courage to run away raced around my already fucked-up head.

I’d make sure that never happened. I turned the water on in the tub, slipped into the warm bath. Once the drowsy sickness of the pills blurred my vision and made my hands wobbly, I pushed the blade against my skin and let the pain fade away.

After three days of radio silence, I felt like I had finally cleared my head. I couldn’t stay pissed at Shane forever, and if I was being honest with myself, I wasn’t entirely innocent in this whole mess. I should have let him explain. I should have called him back.

I threw my stuff together to head home for Thanksgiving, excited to see Shane again, to tell him how sorry I was for shutting him out.

When I got into my car, I plugged my phone into the charger and turned it on for the first time in days. Lights flashed and
bloops
sounded out. Fifteen voicemails and twice as many texts.

The most recent was from Reid. Ice flowed in my veins as I opened the message. Two words stabbed me in the chest.

He’s gone.

I couldn’t go there yet. Maybe Reid simply meant that Shane ran away. He’d said as much before we had our fight. That’s what it had to be. I tried to remain calm as I scrolled through the rest of the text messages. There were lots of “I’m sorrys” and “We need to talks” from Shane right after he’d left, but after the second day, his texts stopped.

I broke in a cold sweat when I saw the next set of messages were only from Reid.

Where are you?

Turn your phone on.

Dylan, come home.

And then the final one,
He’s gone.

My fingers trembled as I dialed into my voice mail. Most of the messages were the same as the texts. I scrolled down to the longest one, figuring that’s where I’d get the most information.

Chills raced over my skin when I heard Shane’s sad voice, raspy and dry. “Please believe me. I wasn’t with her. It was all a cover to get my father off my back. I love you. Only you. I want to be with you. Please call me. Please forgive me. Please come back to me. I’m nothing without you.”

A sickening feeling filled the cabin of my car as I clicked on the last voicemail attached to Shane’s number. “Dylan, I’m sorry I couldn’t be everything you needed, everything you deserved. I love you. I always will. I’m sorry.”

A loud sob roared from my chest.

My mind needed the confirmation that my heart already had. I did a quick check of the time stamps on Shane’s voicemails and Reid’s text. The text had come in hours after the final voicemail.

There was one more voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize. Hope filled my chest. Maybe it wasn’t true, after all. Maybe Shane had run away and Reid only
thought
he was gone. I clicked on it and listened to the most insidious slew of vehemence I had ever heard in my life.

Shane’s father.

“Stay away, you fucking fag. If you show your face around here, around my home, if you for one single second think about showing up at the funeral, just know that I’ll be waiting. I’ll put you in a box right next to him. It’s all your fault he’s there in the first place.”

I opened the door before the vomit came out. It splattered in a loud, wet sound on the pavement.

He was gone.

It was my fault.

I could have saved him.

Instead, I shut him out, let him fall to his own fears; let him do the unthinkable.

I had called him weak, a coward. I had been no better than his father.

I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. All that came was a bitterness like no other.

I’d lost the only person I’d ever loved because I was too proud to listen to him.

So I did the only thing I could think of.

I got in my car and drove. I drove out into the middle of nowhere, hoping that I could escape the sadness.

Turned out, it was sitting next to me the whole ride.