Violence Begets... (24 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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“Fuck no. I mean, well yeah, I guess.
That’s if you want to go and shit.”

“You are quite the romantic, aren’t
you?”

“I just asked you on a fucking date,
didn’t I? Like I know what I’m doing here.” He shifted in his seat several times
and I enjoyed his discomfort immensely. “Well?” he said impatiently.

“Yes, Kevin, I’d like to go on a date
with you. But first, I really must go home and freshen up,” I teased.

“What the fuck?” He looked over at me
with shock until he realized I was kidding.

“Seriously though, I do have to shower.
I just rolled out of bed this morning and didn’t do much.”

“Fine, but I’m not going home. I’ll
wait.”

“I figured.”

I wiped off after the hot shower and
pulled my blue jeans and t-shirt on, finding Kevin waiting in my room. He slowly
rose off my bed and came to me. “You smell good,” he mumbled into my neck.

“Showers do that.”

“I know, I like.” He laced his arms
around me and pulled me into him.

“Do you now?”

“Sure do.” He brought his lips to mine
and kissed me slowly. “Among other things.”

“Yeah, what else do you like about me?”
I wondered out loud, sincerely, but he teased me in return.

“Ahh, fishing for compliments, are we?”
he laughed, but continued. “I like how your hair is getting longer, so I can pull
on it like this.” His fingers twisted and fisted in my hair. He pulled my head back
and his lips found my neck. “I like how your skin tastes,” he said as his teeth
scraped against my shoulder, “damp and clean.” He bit down at the base of my neck.
The slight pain and pleasure traveled through my body, and I pushed him towards
my bed. I straddled him, positioning myself in the exact spot I knew would drive
him crazy. “I like when you’re aggressive and try to top me.” He easily flipped
me over, and I found myself in the opposite position with him on top. “But I like
to top you even more.” His fingers went under my shirt and slowly traveled up my
chest, pushing my shirt to my neck, “I like your body, tight and hard.” He pulled
my shirt off, throwing it on the floor, and in the same moment flung his aside as
well. “And, I like how your skin feels against mine,” he said, stretching out on
top of me and finding my lips again. My hands ran across his back, the scarred texture
again reminding me of his strength. He tensed a little but continued his assault
on my mouth.

I heard the back door open and close
and my dad’s keys being tossed on the table. In an instant, we both shot off the
bed.

“Shit,” he breathed. I looked at both
of us with our shirts off and then heard my dad moving through the downstairs.

“You need to hide,” I said, my panic
level rising. “Here, in there,” I said, motioning towards the closet. Kevin looked
at the closet, then at me.

“No way.”

“Are you kidding? He’s coming up the
stairs,” I said, panicked, moving towards him, trying to get him to budge.

“Not no, but hell no.” He braced against
me as I pushed at him.

“Kevin, please, he’ll kill me if he
finds you here…us here….like this. You know what he’s capable of.”

“I’ll go out the window.” I heard strain
in his voice, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. He tried to go for the window.

“There’s no time!” I grabbed the closet
doorknob with one hand and his arm in the other, desperately trying to move him
in.

“Fine, fine,” he growled at me. “Just
don’t fucking push me.” He yanked his arm away from me and something strange crossed
his face as he ducked around me and into the open closet. I literally shut the door
as my dad burst into my room.

“We need to talk.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Sit,” he commanded, pointing at my
bed and I flinched away from his pointing hand. He grimaced and took a deep breath.
He didn’t appear angry. I told myself to keep my cool. I sat quickly, grabbing a
pillow and putting it on my lap to hide the effects Kevin had on me.

“What is it?” I asked, a little worried.
We didn’t talk much unless I was in trouble.

“I’ve been thinking. Things have been
a bit tense around here lately.” I almost laughed. Whipping me with a belt was much
more than a bit tense, in my mind. “I know things haven’t been easy, for either
of us. I know I haven’t been the best dad.” He was pacing back and forth in front
of my closet, and it took everything I had to listen to what he was saying and not
freak out. “Things with work are stressful, you know? And ever since Jas…I mean,
since… hell. Work, work is hard. See, I have this boss…” And he started rambling.
He was seriously complaining to me about work. Something about a project he was
working on and didn’t have time to finish, and his boss getting more credit than
she deserved. Then he was talking about some co-worker. He sounded like he’d had
eighteen cups of coffee too many with how amped up he was.

“Anyway, Sylvia and I were talking last
night and we think it would be a good idea to go on a family vacation, you know,
all four of us.” I stared at him. My mind was blank of any thought. I noticed his
light hair cut in typical businessman fashion and the eyes that looked exactly like
mine. “Like back to California, well maybe not there. Maybe Disneyworld, Hawaii
or something. We need to change things up. Maybe go as soon as next week or right
after graduation. Just get out of here for a while.”

“Seriously?” was all I could say. Was
he really asking me to Disneyworld, after all that’d happened between us? I searched
his face for another message, something I was clearly missing.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Sure,” I said cautiously.

“You don’t sound sure. Is something
wrong? What’s going on with you?”

“No dad, it’s cool,” I said, trying
to convey excitement. “Sounds like a great idea.” I smiled, but I was sure he was
seeing right through me.

“What, you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“It’s a great idea,” I repeated. “I
bet Emma will be thrilled.” I saw the change in his eyes just before his fist connected
with my face, throwing me backwards off the bed.

“You ungrateful little shit! I told
Sylvia you’d hate the idea. I don’t know why I bother,” he mumbled as he slammed
my door behind him. I laid there on the floor for a second, trying to figure out
what had just happened and what had gotten into him. As I pulled myself up, rubbing
my jaw, I heard the TV flip on down in the living room.

“I’m sure it’s safe.” I said to Kevin,
examining my face in the mirror for a potential bruise. When he didn’t respond,
I said louder, “Kevin, you’re okay to come out. I don’t think he’ll come back up.”
When he still didn’t respond, I continued, “Listen, I know you’re pissed, but get
over it.” I still didn’t hear anything so I walked over and yanked open the door.
“Kevin…” I stopped.

He was sitting on the floor with his
legs pulled up to his chest. His hands were over his ears and his eyes were squeezed
shut. He was rocking back and forth. “Kevin?” I dropped to my knees and laid a hand
on his bare shoulder. His eyes flew open, and he pushed himself into the corner
of the closet, sheer terror flooding his face. I fell backwards, surprised by his
reaction.

“Kevin, whoa, Kevin…it’s just me, Rick.”
He didn’t seem to recognize me. He was almost staring through me. “Look, it’s okay.
I’m not going to hurt you. It’s just me.” I reached out to him again and his body
stiffened, his eyes darting from my face to my hands and then to nothing. “Okay,
okay, I won’t touch you.” I said, staying where I was. “But you’re scaring me. Do
you know who I am?” He didn’t say anything, just pulled himself tighter into the
corner. I wondered if I should call an ambulance. I had no idea what was going on
with him.

I sat for several minutes, debating.
“Did you take something? Are you tripping?” I asked, but he didn’t respond. How
would I explain him in my closet without a shirt on? “Kevin, should I call for help?”
I finally asked, seeing no other choice.

“No, don’t.” His voice sounded so small.
“I’m okay. I’m back. Just give me a second.”

I looked closer at him and realized
that he did recognize me, that his eyes were no longer those of a terrified child.

“Okay, are you sure?”

“Yeah, a second,” he said quietly. He
pulled himself just outside of the closet door and leaned against the wall, closing
his eyes. I cautiously watched him gain control, piece by piece, Kevin coming back.
First, his breathing returned to normal, not the short, quick intakes he’d been
doing. Then his shoulders stiffened and he sat up a little straighter, and his head
followed, no longer hanging down but pressed firmly against the wall. His eyes opened,
and they were full of stone again.

“Sorry,” he said shortly.

“Umm, it’s fine.” When he didn’t move,
I asked, “Do I get to know what that was about?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“That was not nothing.”

He looked at me briefly. “I didn’t mean
to scare you,” he said, again looking away. I waited. “Closets. I don’t do well
with closets. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” When
he didn’t continue, I filled in the missing information. “I assume it has something
to do with your dad?”

His chest stopped moving, not breathing,
straining to hold onto his control.

“Yes,” he finally whispered. I watched
as his struggle continued. His breathing quickened again and then steadied. “It’s
one of his favorite punishments.” He paused for a minute or so. I sat and waited.
“It’s the only one that really gets to me. I don’t think he’s aware how much it
gets to me. If he knew, it’d be the one he used exclusively.” He wrapped his arms
around his legs, pulling them tighter to his chest. “Can I have my shirt?” he asked.

“Sure, sure. Here you go,” I offered,
handing him the previously discarded black shirt. He pulled it over his battered
chest and quickly drew his legs in again.

“I suppose if he saw me the way you
just did, he’d know. When it’s done, he just opens the door, doesn’t ever really
look at me. I don’t know why it’s the hardest. It’s certainly not the most painful.”
He stopped again. “The first time was right after I was released from the emergency
room, after that first beating. They had asked questions, and he was furious. He
hit me, of course, but then he locked me in my closet. I was still little and the
dark scared me.” He took several steadying breaths. “Every few hours, he’d pull
me out and beat me, then throw me back in. I think that’s why he doesn’t realize
how bad it is, too busy worrying about the beating, doesn’t see what the closet
does to me.” I could see the muscles in his neck strain as he pushed his head against
the wall. His eyes were empty as he remembered the punishment. “I guess I should
be thankful for small favors, right? Anyway, it went on for days. I honestly thought
I was going to die in there.”

“There were other times?”

He let out a small laugh. “Fuck yeah,
there’ve been other times.”

“When’s the last time? I mean, was it
recently? Or, often?”

He shrugged, “My disappearing acts.”

I
thought of all the times he just disappeared for days. “The binges? I just assumed—”

“Assumed what I wanted you to assume.
What was I supposed to say? Hey, sorry, couldn’t answer the phone, was locked in
the closet and beaten for the last four days.” The resentment dripped out of his
voice like poison, but I knew he wasn’t mad at me.

I shook my head, “I just don’t get how
he can be so cruel.”

“I literally think he’s a sociopath,
Rick. I had a psychology class last year and the book outlined different personality
disorders. Sociopath was on the list and he met nearly every characteristic. I remember
reading it over and over, something finally explaining the monster I live with.”

“But how? How does he do that to you
for years without anyone finding out?”

“Just like the bruises, people only
see what they wanna see. And if they see more, they would much rather hear a sugar-coated
lie than the ugly truth that's staring at 'em.”

“I just don’t get it.”

“How many people have questioned the
evidence left on your face, or arms or wherever?”

I thought about it. Other than Jessica—and
I wasn’t even sure with her—I didn’t think anyone had put two and two together.

“You see, people don’t want to believe
there are monsters living next door, that there are innocent kids screaming for
help. They want to believe the story of the dashing businessman rising to the occasion
after the drug-addicted mother runs away. Even to the fuckers who work in the system,
it’s just one more case to add to their already overworked asses. They don’t fucking
care. Nobody does.” I could hear the emotion in his voice and see the gleam of tears
in his eyes.

“But I do. I care, Kevin, and you care
about what happens to me.”

“I know, but we’re on our own. It’s
just me and you, and that’s why we gotta stick together and get the fuck out of
this place.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say.
It wasn’t the first time he’d talked about all the people who had had a chance to
help him but didn’t. It was clear why he stood on his own, not trusting or depending
on anyone but himself. His being in control was the difference between life and
death in his world.

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