Chapter 10

“Dad! Dad! Wake up!”I screamed in his face, but it was useless. He was passed out, half on the couch, half on the floor, two empty bottles surrounding him and a needle just resting on his chest. Fuck, what if Riley got ahold of that? He was only seven.

I slapped his face, but nothing changed. Was he dead? Was it terrible I kinda hoped he was? I stalked into the kitchen, purposely not looking at Riley as he watched me with his big eyes by the front door. I always made him wait there until I checked to see what was going on with Dad. I didn’t want him to see this.

I grabbed the biggest cup I could find and filled it with ice-cold water before stomping back into the living room. This had better work. I still held the piece of paper I’d found on the door in my other hand. I tried to get it off before Ri saw it, but he read way better than first-grade level and I knew he saw it, even if he didn’t know what it meant.

“Dad!” I screamed one more time, still a little scared to do what I was about to do. He was usually pretty angry when he woke up after a bender, but I had no choice. When he didn’t move, I held the glass over his head and poured.

“What the fuck!” I jumped outta the way before Dad fell to the floor with a big thud.

It took him a second to figure out what happened, but then he saw me and the rage took over. I skipped back a few steps, away from Riley. He was still where I told him to stay, clutching his backpack and just waiting. He was used to this.

Dad lunged toward me but was still too out of it and ended up landing face first on the carpet. “Get back here, you little shithead!”

I squatted, careful to stay out of reach, and shoved the paper in his face.

He stopped grabbing for me and snatched it out of my hand. “What the fuck is this?”

“We’re getting kicked out, Michael,” I snapped, knowing how much he hated when I called him by his first name but not caring at all.

He glared at me with his beady, bloodshot eyes. “They can’t fucking do that.”

“They can when you spend rent money on booze and drugs. What’re you gonna do about it?”

We’d moved out of the house we’d lived in with Mom just a month after she died. That was also the last time we saw Aunt Tessa, Mrs. Walsh, and basically any adult who’d tried to help that first really awful month. It had been just me to look after Riley since then and to make sure Dad didn’t drown in his own puke, though sometimes I just wished he would.

This was the third apartment in two years, and each one just got shittier and shittier. I didn’t know what we were gonna do now. I’d already begged a few extra months out of the landlord, but I knew he wouldn’t give us anymore time.

Dad slowly forced himself to his feet, stumbling as he did. He ripped the paper into shreds before throwing it in my face. I stood there, surrounded by scraps as he shouldered past me. He stopped moving, glaring at Riley. I didn’t think Dad liked either of us much, but he really hated Riley even though the kid did his best to stay quiet and outta his way.

I knew the moment he changed paths from the kitchen to the front door. “Shoulda just let them take you to the group home,” he snapped as he stalked to my brother. “Just taking everything from me and leaving me with nothing. A greedy whore like your mother.”

Riley didn’t move, didn’t even speak. He just stood there and held his backpack, staring at Dad with big, wet eyes. He didn’t flinch at the words or at the man barreling toward him. He’d heard way worse.

No way was I letting the asshole touch Riley. I moved fast and got there just in time for his fist to glance across my cheek. A closed fist? What the hell was wrong with him? That coulda broken Riley’s jaw.

I stumbled back. Even though most of the blow missed me, it still hurt. But I stayed on my feet and blocked Riley, prepared for another hit. It didn’t come. Dad just shook his head and muttered something like “fucking disgusting” under his breath.

I didn’t move just in case, blocking Riley as he stumbled into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

It was empty, except for two cans of beer. He took one before walking back out, popping it open, and lying back down on the couch like none of it happened.

My eyes burned, but no tears came. It was fine. I shoulda known I’d get no help from him. I turned to face Riley where he stood frozen, just waiting. The tears that filled his eyes were streaking down his face now, but he still wasn’t making a sound. His little hand reached out and lightly touched the mark on my face from Dad’s hit. I forced a smile and took his hand, letting him know it was okay. I grabbed his backpack. “Come on, Ri, let’s go to our room and I’ll help you with homework before we find something to eat.” Hopefully.

“Beckett, are we gonna have to move again?” Neither of us mentioned the rest of this shitshow afternoon. Why would we? It was a typical Tuesday.

I messed with his soft brown hair, smiling as he scowled at me. “Don’t worry about that yet. We’ll be okay.”

He nodded but he was still worried. He was so smart, way too observant for a first grader.

I shooed him into our bedroom, locked the door, and then pushed the dresser in front of it because the lock sucked. All I could think about was what to do next. I needed help, but there was only one person I could ask.

We’d lost all track of every other adult in our life. Except one. Mr. Chase, the counselor Mom took Ri and me to when she was still alive. I’d found his number on an old bill when we were packing up once and kept it. Every time we’d moved, I’d kept that number just in case. I had no idea if he could help, but I had to try for Riley’s sake.

My eyes flew open. Something was around my body, holding me down. I kicked and twisted. I had to fight, had to get out . . .

“Beckett. Beckett! It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

That voice. I knew that voice. It meant safety.

“Please, Becks, come back to me. You’re safe. You’re with me and you’re safe.”

“Butterfly?” My voice was hoarse and my throat burned like I’d been screaming.

“Yeah, it’s Riley. Your butterfly.” Suddenly, there was a heavier weight on me, but this time I didn’t fight it. This weight was perfect, everything I needed.

I didn’t have panic attacks like this often anymore, but Riley still knew what to do. I allowed him to push me back down to a lying position as he lay directly on top of me, all his weight pushed into me like a human weighted blanket. I shouldn’t be able to breathe easier with 140 pounds of man on top of me, but I did. I really fucking did.

I threaded my fingers through his hair, and held on as tightly as I could without hurting him. My other hand snaked around his body, and I squeezed him even closer to me so there wasn’t an inch of space between us. I needed to feel him, know he was here. It was the only way I could stay out of my brain and be sure of what was real. I just fuckin’ needed Riley.

We knew we were weird and that this was fucked up. I was sure every medical professional and psychiatrist in the fuckin’ world would tell us we were wrong and that this was unhealthy and we were codependent. Riley had read enough articles on it for me to believe that was all true. But I also didn’t care. This was the only thing that worked when it got that bad. It was the only thing that calmed the itch under my skin, that kept me from thinking about him.

I never thought I’d see him again. It had been ten years since I last saw him. Of all my awful experiences with him, that last time was the worst. It was forever scarred into my memory and on my face, a reminder every time I looked in the mirror. I made sure he stayed as far away as fuckin’ possible from Ri and me. I’d thought that was enough. That I could push it all to the back of my head, lock it up tight, and move on.

Then Mr. Chase was right there. Just sitting with two kids right in the open, like he wasn’t a fuckin’ monster. He volunteered at a fuckin’ shelter? That meant every day, he was seeing kids who had no home. Vulnerable kids were easy prey. Like me.

I was gonna be sick again. I never thought past Riley and me, never even considered that we weren’t the only kids he saw. That maybe there were others . . .

My cheek stung. “What the fuck?” I glared at Riley. Did that little shit just slap me?

He didn’t even look sorry. His eyes blazed with worry. He propped himself up with one hand but was careful to keep the rest of his weight on me.

“Don’t leave me again, Becks. Stay with me.”

His words scared the fuck out of me. How long was I gone this time?

I tightened my grip in his hair. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

I really looked at Riley then. Dark circles marred his peachy skin like he hadn’t slept in days. His cheeks were red and blotchy with dried tear streaks running down them. His hair was matted with sweat.

My first response whenever I saw Ri crying was rage, Like I was gonna fuckin’ murder whoever made him upset. But this time, I was pretty sure it was me. Self-loathing was a feeling I was familiar with, but it was never stronger than when the tears ran down his face were my fault.

Eventually, the tension left his body and he went limp on me, once again actin’ like my emotional support blanket. I squeezed him tight and kissed the top of his head.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, unable to get any other words out.

Teeth sunk into my shoulder through my shirt.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Riley. What the fuck’s wrong with ya?”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry! You always hate when I do that.”

I swallowed, trying not to let the guilt take over. Ri would be pissed. “Yeah, but I scared you.”

“So fuckin’ what? Did you do it on purpose?”

I scowled and tugged on his hair that I still held it like a lifeline. “No, ‘course not.”

“Then don’t fuckin’ apologize.”

I sighed. I wasn’t winning this. But then again, I rarely won any argument against Riley that didn’t directly have to do with his safety.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

We were both quiet after that. I had to take a piss, but I wasn’t ready to let him go yet. I knew once I got up, reality would hit again. This was far from over.

My eyes started to drift closed, and Riley’s breath evened out on top of me.

The next time I woke up, I had no choice but to get up. I made it to the bathroom okay, but then I made the mistake of looking in the mirror. It wasn’t current me that stared back. No, it was the 12-year-old version. The skinny, hungry, absolutely fuckin’ terrified kid that showed up in Mr. Chase’s office that day, so fuckin’ desperate and willing to do anything to keep him and Riley together and off the streets that he didn’t even realize what was being asked of him until it was too late.

Bile rose up so fast, I didn’t have time to make it to the toilet and got sick right in the sink.

Someone banged on the door. Riley.

“Go ‘way. I’m fine.” I slid to the floor and crawled to the toilet.

“Fuck you. You’re not fine. Let me in!”

“No! Go the fuck ‘way, Riley.” I clawed at the lid but couldn’t get it up.

The door rattled on the hinges. “Beckett Cooks, open the fuckin’ door right now!”

But I couldn’t. Riley couldn’t see me like this. He couldn’t know. I was supposed to protect him. I couldn’t let him see how much of a fuckup I was. I wouldn’t.

I thought about everything that was changing between us. Well, Riley wouldn’t want me after this anyway, so there was no point thinking about it. I’d probably never get a chance to feel his lips against mine again. My head fell against the toilet, as I was unable to keep it up.

The door burst open. “Oh, Beckett.”

Riley fell to his knees next to me, and I broke down. I sobbed, but no tears fell. I dry heaved into the toilet, having nothing left. Riley never left, even when I collapsed on the floor, no strength left to hold myself up. He never left The last thing I remembered was him lying next to me, half his body on top of mine on the dirty bathroom floor when things got quiet and dark.