1. Abel

It wasa bad call on my part, that much I will say. I knew better—even my gut told me it was a bad idea, but money talks. And particularly loud at that.

So, all in all, I couldn’t refuse the proposition. And what a stroke of luck I had.

“I’m going to need you to remove your shirt,” a nurse murmurs softly somewhere to my left. I quirk my head in her direction, peering through my one good eye, the other swollen shut. Blood drips into my eyelashes, obscuring even more of my shotty vision.

Brilliant.

“Tryna get a look at this fabulous body, aren’t ya? All you gotta do is ask,” I rasp with a wink, trying for humor. It goes untouched. I frown at her pointed mask of indifference. But there—a twitch in the corner of her mouth. My own curves in success, which causes her to sigh dramatically.

“All right, all right, I’m taking it off.” I hold up my hands before pushing myself into a sitting position. The room around me spins precariously, and my eyes roll into the back of my head. “Shit,” I groan, clutching the starchy, white linen below me.

“Let me?—”

“It’s cool. I’ve got it.” I lift the hem of my shirt, two times too big for me, now stained with blood and who knows what other kind of fluids. I peel it off with a grimace before lamely trying to toss it across the room to a chair, only for it to splat not even two feet away from the hospital bed.

Well, that’s embarrassing.

I glare at it, but even the heat of my stare isn’t enough to change its location.

Whatever.

“Do I have to take off my pants, too?” I ask after lying back down. The room spins less this way. Much more bearable.

The nurse hesitates for a moment. I watch the wave of different emotions flicker across her face, through her eyes. She purses her lips in contemplation. Shit, she’s probably never seen something like this in this small ass town.

“Are you… do you?—”

I wince, eyes scrunching for a moment before I smooth my features out. The blood flowing from the split in my eyebrow slows its descent, but the throbbing in my other eye socket remains strong and steady. The plasticky-paper material under my ass makes a crinkly noise as I shift, fighting against the pins and needles in my legs.

“Nah. I’m not filing a report. I just want to get stitched up so I can go home.”

I’ll give the nurse some credit. She doesn’t even flinch. “Abel…”

Here we go. I sigh loudly.

“You’re seventeen, and you came in alone… and beaten. We have to?—”

“Yeah yeah, call CPS. I know. Bill will be thrilled, I’m sure.” I throw my fist in the air, albeit pathetically because my aching rib keeps me from raising it all the way, so it falls back with a pitiful thump against the lumpy bed.

Tension fills the room. The nurse digs through a cupboard before handing me a shit-green hospital gown, golden eyes warm and knowing. “Put this on. I’ll be back in a few minutes to examine your wounds, and then we’ll get the doctor in here.”

“Aye aye, captain,” I remark, saluting her. She smiles before closing the door softly behind her. After the final vibration cuts off and I’m left alone, the tears finally try to come into play.

I swipe aggressively over both eyes, barely even feeling the pulsing ache in my left as I disperse the tears trying to spill over. “I don’t fucking think so,” I growl to myself. “Not today. Not fucking today.” After a few seconds of pushing breath through my nostrils, I feel more in control—for now, anyway.

I wish it could last forever.

Standing on my own two feet takes more strength than one would imagine, but I manage to drop my jeans after undoing the belt. They fall to the floor around my ankles, pooling in a huddle of worn denim. I step out of them and kick them to the side, now down to one fucking change of clothes.

I huff angrily and yank the scratchy material of the hospital gown over my arms, ignoring the sight of my mottled body. Nothing new in that department.

Once it’s on, left untied because fuck if I can reach the strings, let alone be fucked to even tie it, I crawl back into the bed, this time on my side to try and curb the nausea. A few minutes pass in a long stretch of silence before a soft knock bounces off the wood.

“Ye—” I clear my throat. “Yeah.”

“Is it okay if I come in?”

“Well, I’m not naked anymore. Sorry you missed the show.”

The nurse enters, closing the door behind her. She pulls gloves from the container holding them on the beige colored wall. She’s not hiding her smirk of amusement as she pulls on the blue latex.

“Can I touch you?”

I roll onto my back, closing my eyes. A voice inside my head urges me to be more diligent, but I’m just so tired. And I like this nurse. She gives good vibes. It’s a nice change of pace.

“My name is Elise, by the way,” she tells me as her fingers glide over the cut in my eyebrow. I twitch.

“Abel,” I respond even though she already knows my name.

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, Abel, if it was under better circumstances.”

I peel open my right eye. “So, it’s not nice to meet me now, you’re saying?”

She huffs a laugh. “You’re a troublemaker, aren’t you?” Her fingers glide up the side of my head, feeling around the lump that’s there somewhere from when I was shoved into the wall, the mirror inches away…

“Only on my best days,” I reply, shoving the vivid memory down. Away. Locked up tight. Just another day. Just another accident.

“Do you want to tell me what happened to you, Abel?”

“Oh, jeez. Well, you see, I’m just so clumsy…”

She pulls back to meet my eyes, one brown eyebrow arched. Unimpressed.

“Tough crowd,” I grumble.

“I want you to know, whatever you say will stay between us—and the doctor, of course—if you wish. But I can’t treat you to the best of my ability if I don’t know what happened.”

I grit my teeth. “I don’t want Child Protective Services involved.”

“You know they’ve already been called. I’m sorry, but legally…”

“Yeah.” I breathe out heavily. “I know.”

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“Just another day in the life, doc.”

Warm breath, smelling faintly of coffee, blows across my frigid skin. “I’m not a doctor.”

“Nurses are better than doctors if you ask me.” I flip her a smile, but my eyes remain closed.

“Well, thank you. May I pull up your gown to examine your ribs?”

I lift my arms slightly, nearly throwing up at the concentrated wave of pain. “It appears your ribs are bruised, possibly cracked, but we’ll do some x-rays to be sure. I’m also concerned about these bruises on your legs. Is there any localized pain?”

No mention of my scars… That’s a first.

“It all hurts, but no. Just the ribs. And my eye. That fucking stings.” I brush my fingers over the weeping wound, probably smearing blood around.

“Okay. I’ll go put in an order to get these tests done. And Abel…”

I’d lift a brow if I could, but I can’t, so I settle on peering through matted lashes.

“Do you want a sexual assault exam?—”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

She sighs softly. “There’s evidence, and?—”

“I said no. I wasn’t assaulted. I fell or whatever, so can we please just get this done?” I glance around the sterile room. All shades of white and beige. I picture the glossy white floor stained with blood. It drips from the table. A small puddle that grows with each passing second.

“I want to get out of here. Hospitals creep me out.”

Our eyes lock, silver and golden green clashing. “All right.”

Death feels closer than it ever has as the doctor checks me over, agreeing that my ribs are, in fact, bruised, but not cracked. Yay me. I also have a minor concussion and a sprained wrist, amongst the many, many bruises. What I don’t speak a word of is the burning, aching fire in my ass. Been here before, know exactly how to deal with it. And I’m sure as fuck not having it put in a medical record.

Elise stays by my side through it all. With every test they run. While I wear a lead vest as they x-ray my chest and my wrist. Hovering by the doctor as he stitches my eyebrow closed.

It’s… surprisingly comforting while simultaneously unbearable.

“There is always the possibility of scarring, but I’m fairly confident in my abilities. I’d say, after this heals, your eyebrow won’t look any different than before. But sometimes hair, especially in this particular area, won’t grow back the same, so that might be the only distinction.”

“That’s fine. I’m not one to care about scars.” The doctor’s laser-focused eyes dart to the visible scars on my forearms for the briefest moment.

Silence stretches out, his hands still on my face, left side numbed completely as a needle weaves in and out of my skin. I wish I could see it, but when I asked Elise for a mirror, she just stared at me.

Whatever. I guess my freak was showing a little too much.

After an eternity and a half, the doctor leaves the room. Elise leans over, examining the bandage. Then, she silently helps me put all my jewelry back in my face. As she screws on the ball to the last one, she says, “Your caseworker is here, and he needs to speak with you. Is that okay, or do you need to be alone for a little while longer?” She pulls back, slightly hovering.

My heart nearly breaks at her consideration—and at the fact I can’t trust it.

“It’s fine. Send him in.” She nods, giving me a small smile. One minute stretches into two, then three.

The knob turns. “Hey, Bill,” I sigh. He huffs a breath, closing the door behind him. His feet thunk across the floor. A chair scrapes. Creaks as he sits.

“What the hell, Abel.”

Not a question, then. Just diving right in.

“Not sure what you want me to say here, Bill.” I keep my gaze trained on the spotted ceiling tiles.

“How about starting with—I don’t know—what happened?”

“I fell.”

“Oh, that’s new. And original,” he deadpans.

I snort. “That’s me.”

“We’ve pulled you from the Mills’ house.”

I bite back the impulse to take in a sharp pull of air. “I was fine there.”

A scoff. “Clearly not.”

“This wasn’t them.”

“Wasn’t it? You’re not talking. No one knows what happened.”

“What exactly happened isn’t anyone’s business.” I turn my head, facing him. “I can’t not be there. You’re gonna send me to a fucking group home—and you know what happens there, Bill. I’m lucky to have avoided it this long. Just… give me four more months. That’s all I fucking need, and you know that.”

Just four months…

Bill’s head drops slightly, showcasing the top of his shiny, bald head. He rubs his palm over it before dropping his muscled arm back in his lap. “It wasn’t my choice. The surprise visit to their home an hour ago indicated you weren’t the only one being abused.”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes closed. “They didn’t fucking touch the younger kids. And now, they’re going who knows where. We had it.”

“Apparently not.”

I shoot up in the bed and immediately regret it. My head swims and pulses like I just slammed into a cinderblock. Breath doesn’t fill my lungs, making everything hazy and pressurized.

Bill’s warm hand clasps my shoulder. “Don’t strain yourself, Abel. I’m sorry, but it’s done.”

My throat closes, and to my dismay, my voice wobbles as I say, “What about me? What am I supposed to do?” I close my eyes against the sting, refusing to let anything spill.

“We found emergency placement for you. Don’t know if it will become permanent, but for the foreseeable future…”

“Where?” At least I have my bag with me. Shit can switch on a dime, but I’m usually always ready—and I never go anywhere without my bag, which is filled with my only possessions.

“Here, actually.”

“Shit, really?”

“Mhm.” He nods, and for the first time since I met Bill a decade ago, he’s smiling. It’s odd.

I don’t like it. So, I scowl. “What the hell are you smiling for?” I mean, honestly. What the fuck is there to be happy about right now?

“I’ll be right back.”

I balk, mouth falling slack. “Bill, what the—” The door closes. “What the hell going on?” I say to no one but, apparently, myself.

Not even a minute later, the door opens, revealing Elise clad in her blue and white scrubs. I smile slightly, ignoring Bill entirely. “Hey, doc.”

“Not a doctor,” she responds fondly.

“Yeah-yeah, whatever. What’s up? I thought I was all good to go. Been here all fucking day.”

She nods. “You are, I’ve brought your discharge papers.” I glance down, noticing the stack in her hand. “I’m going to go over them with you, and then, we can head home.”

I blink. Again. My mouth falls open. “What?”

“Elise Baxter is a state-certified caretaker. We talked at length when I showed up. She’s fostered before and volunteered for emergency placement. I made some calls, pulled some strings. You’re going home with her.”

My eyes bounce back and forth between Elise and Bill, stunned. I swallow the ball in my throat. “Are you serious?”

Elise smiles down at me. “Very. It’s not often I find myself in a situation to be able to help. Thankfully, it’s never really been necessary, but today, I knew what I had to do. And you deserve to sleep somewhere you feel safe.” So much is left unspoken as she smiles down at me. Soft and knowing. But she can’t—couldn’t—ever know.

I feel oddly exposed. But the idea of staying with Elise—a stranger who stayed with me through the long, early hours of the morning and throughout the day, who comforted me when she didn’t have to, who went above and beyond what is considered a requirement of her job…

Maybe there really are good people in the world. Though, I’m certainly not one of them, and she’ll see that soon enough.

“Well, here we are.”Elise parks the car in front of a lavender house, surrounded on either side by houses of similar stature painted red, white, and blue. I peer out the passenger window, staring at it in disbelief.

Wow, God bless fucking America.

I wish I could roll my eyes, but they’re too swollen, and I’m just grateful I’m going to have a roof over my head—at least for today. Everything hurts. I’ve never felt so close to death before—and let me tell you, I am not a fan. Though right about now, I’m not much of a fan of living, either.

“Do you need help?” I swallow at her kind words. She’s been nothing short of amazing and generous since the moment I hobbled into the emergency room and she took me under her wing. Motherly is the word that immediately comes to mind—not that I even know what the fuck that means. But if I had to guess, it would be this—her.

As fate would have it—not that I believe in such mercurial things like fate—but when it comes to Elise… she has to be a Heaven-sent angel or some shit because there’s no way any human walking the earth is this good. Or that I would even come close to deserving it. But to say I’m grateful is an understatement. I’ve never had anyone… care about me before. If that’s even what this is.

“No, I’m good,” I respond, minutes later, but she doesn’t press, just waits patiently.

“All right, well, come on. My son is home, so you’ll get to meet him first thing. I’ll grab your bag.” She reaches into the backseat and pulls out the only thing I own—a small, ratty backpack filled with my lighters, a change of clothes, some old, scratched CDs I can’t listen to but refuse to get rid of, a tattered copy of “Go Ask Alice” by Anonymous—the only book I’ve been able to keep, despite its missing cover and torn pages—and a single polaroid photo, yellowed and faded with age.

My muscles tense to take it from her, to ensure she can’t keep my things from me, but consciously, I don’t think she will. It’s still a bitch to fight against the very instinct that’s kept me alive.

“I know I should’ve said it earlier, but thank you.” Fuck, why’s my voice all weird?

The silence that follows is loud.

“No need. I’m just glad it all worked out.” And then, she opens her door, letting in a wave of cool, autumn air. I stare through the glass, out at the neighboring houses. I’ve never been in a place so fancy before. The lawns are all neat without a single piece of trash. Cars are lined perfectly in their drives. Hell, there aren’t even any shitty kids toys in the lawns.

Pushing the car door open takes more strength than I realize, but I manage through gritted teeth and bated breath. The walk to the front door drags endlessly, Elise walking by my side slowly as if waiting for when I inevitably ask for assistance. But even with my body screaming and protesting against every step I take, I manage on my own, avoiding the cracks because who am I to spoil old, useless, childhood superstitions?

Although… maybe I should step on a crack. My mom deserves at least that.

The front door creaks open, and someone steps out, but all I see is their black and purple sneakers through my downcast gaze, and my blonde hair flicking back and forth in the low breeze. Between bypassing cracks and fighting back the urge to vomit, I can’t lift my head.

“Hey, Ma, how’s everything?” a voice cuts through the ascending night. My feet stop on edge of a crack in the gray sidewalk with a loud thwomp.

A vast array of warm colors slowly descend on the horizon, basking the world in all shades of gray.

“Oh, well, it’s getting there. It’s been a long day, so I’m sure Abel is ready to sleep in a real bed. I know I am.” She laughs lightly, clasping my shoulder with the gentlest touch. I tense away from it at first before leaning in, letting myself enjoy her warmth.

What’s the right thing to do? What’s wrong?

“Abel?” My name is repeated, low and tense. My ears prick. Holding my breath at the base of my throat, I lift my gaze. My eyes rove over long legs, a fit torso clothed in a tight, white tank top with broad shoulders, up to a nice, elongated neck and a dimpled chin below a pouty mouth, the cutest button nose on tanned skin, and two golden-green eyes staring down at me with a sharp focus.

Holy fucking shit.

Maybe I should start believing in fate, after all.

A smile pulls at both corners of my lips, spreading wide, filling the lower half of my lopsided face completely. “Peris Baxter,” I muse, feeling loads better already.

“Abel,” he spits my name again, just as tense. Definitely irate. Probably disbelief.

“Oh!” Elise exclaims excitedly, head swinging between us, completely oblivious to the turmoil surging through her son’s body. “You two know each other?” Our eyes never part, potency multiplying by the second. His shapely jaw shifts under the pressure of his molars grinding together. I watch in amusement as his hands ball into fists at his sides, turned knuckles skimming the material of his athletic shorts.

“We do,” I reply because, apparently, Peris has decided he’s keeping his mouth shut. Smart boy.

“We go to school together.” Elise smiles. “In fact, we’ve actually become friends since I switched schools at the beginning of the year.” I shoot Peris a wink, loving the flip in my stomach when his eyes narrow, nostrils flaring.

“That’s wonderful.” Elise wraps her arms around the both of us, forcing us in proximity. “Come on, let’s head inside.” The warmth inside the house pulls a grateful groan from my throat, accentuated for Peris’s benefit. He snarls when Elise disappears around the corner.

I glance around the small entryway. The walls are painted a soft purple color, nearly the same shade as the outside of the house. A few prints hang on the walls—nothing fancy, just cheap images you could find in any store, but it makes it feel homely.

I don’t realize I’m smiling until Peris’s arm shoots out in front of me, blocking my way. My feet stop inches away, the toes of my Converse digging into the plush, white-ish carpet below, keeping me grounded. I blink away the dark spots in my right eye, the left still nearly sealed shut with swelling. I’ve had many black eyes before, but this one definitely takes the fucking cake. Even thinking about it makes it hurt worse.

Fuckin’ asshole.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Peris blurts. His chest is rising and falling like he just found air after being trapped underwater for endless minutes, arms vibrating under the tension.

I lift my chin to meet his eyes, waving my hand over my body. Peris follows the gesture, raking over my ill-fitting clothes, down to my old shoes, and back up to my swollen and bruised face. “Now, you wanna talk to me?” I smirk halfheartedly through memories of dejection. It’s always been fun playing with Peris, even when he blatantly rejects me, but I’m fucking tired today. “Not really much I can pull right now, Peri boy. Besides, it’s not like I have a choice in where I’m placed.”

His dark, bushy brows furrow. “You had to have done something. I mean, my fucking mom—are you kidding me? I get enough of your shit at school.”

I roll my eyes and immediately regret it. My vision swims, flickering dark. Pain thumps and pulses in my temples, throwing off my equilibrium. “I didn’t even know she was your mom until two minutes ago when you finally opened your fucking mouth.” Peris has always said more with his looks than he ever has with his mouth. Confusion, irritation, ignorance.

He scoffs. “Yeah, okay.”

“Right.” My scoff is loud when I catch Peris’s narrowed glare, still unbelieving—which isn’t completely unwarranted, but… “Believe what you want. I’ve gotta go sit down.” I push past him, and he lets me by easily, his arm falling before I even get the chance to touch him. Shame. That would’ve been nice. I’ve always wondered what his muscles feel like. If they’re as hard as they appear when he flexes, or if they remain soft, hidden below the surface, but still tangible.

Shaking off the thought, I follow the sound of clanking pots and pans, followed by a refrigerator door opening.

“I’m making grilled cheese, if that’s all right? You don’t have any allergies or anything, do you, Abel?”

“No, ma’am. That sounds awesome. Thank you.” I pull out the chair in front of my discarded backpack and pull my bag between my legs.

“Ma’am,” Peris scoffs loudly, immediately clearing his throat.

“Peris!” Elise admonishes him. He sighs, then mumbles a weak apology.

“There’s nothing wrong with manners. Perhaps you could learn some from Abel,” she sasses him, then shoots me an exaggerated wink. His head jerks up, eyes wide. I snicker at his look of incredulity.

“Yeah, Peris. I think you could learn some manners from me.” I may feel like death ran me over—and backed up just to do it all over again—but I’ll always be well enough to poke Peris. It’s impossible to resist what scraps of his attention he decides to give.

“You… teach me manners. You little?—”

My eyes shoot open wide as I lean back, a smile splayed wide, cracking my lip open again. I couldn’t hide my grin of glee even if I wanted to. Woo-wee, someone’s sassy. Maybe we’re finally getting somewhere.

Elise whirls around, brandishing her spatula. “That’s enough. I thought you said you were friends?”

“We are,” I reply easily. “We just like to tease each other, don’t we, Peri? It’s sorta our…” I twirl my hand in the air, “our thing.”

He stares at me for a long moment, stunning golden-green orbs flicking back and forth, always trying to read me, to figure out what’s coming next. Good luck with that, buddy.

“Yeah,” he finally says. I swipe the blood off my lip with the tip of my tongue, all while Peris watches me like a hawk, like he’s trying to catch me in a malicious act.

As if I’d ever let him if I didn’t already want him to—and he’s well aware of that.

“Smart.” I mouth the words, not letting a sound escape. Peris frowns, pinning me in place with his glare alone. So heavy and strong and unnerving.

He leans across the table, and I follow the lines of veins, stretched taut as he flexes his fingers over the smooth surface. Like he’s grappling for something to ground him.

Keeping his voice low, barely heard over the sizzle of butter in a hot pan, he hisses, “Nothing I do is for your benefit, you little—” he cuts himself off so sharply, the air is sucked out from between us, leaving my head spinning. By the time he speaks again, it’s softer. Calmer. In control. “My mom doesn’t need to be involved with…” He trails off, lips twisted into something reminiscent of a scowl, even as he blatantly checks me out. Whether he realizes that’s what he’s doing or not remains to be seen.

But still. Nothing compares to Peris’s heady stare. The sharp drag of his eyes over my body. The way he just… takes me in. All my ugliness and impurities and still manages to… to look at me like that.

It’s hard to keep my face a blank mask as my heart stutters.

Fuck.

“She doesn’t need to be involved with your shit. It’s bad enough you’ve dragged me into it,” he finally finishes his sentence, gaining composure once more.

Sliding my tongue across the fronts of my crooked teeth, I lift a brow and cross my arms over my chest. My large shirt bunches against my chest, drawing an unrestrained hiss from my lips. “My shit,” I deadpan, though I am quite amused. “That’s cute.”

“It’s the fucking truth,” he snaps. “You’re… whatever you are. The things I’ve heard that you do… what I’ve seen—” He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale. I watch, rapt, as his chest expands. His scent wafts into me—something woodsy, I think.

I wonder if he’s remembering the first night we met or all of the little times after. If he replays every glance, every taunt, every mirrored touch a thousand times like I have.

After a long pause, he says, softer still, “I don’t want you in my house. And especially not around my mom. She’ll fall for your shit because she doesn’t know any better.”

“Oh, not like you know, huh, Peris?” I drag the tip of my tongue over the split, collecting another drop of blood. He sneers, even as he traces the path of my tongue with his gaze.

“Exactly,” he mumbles as he leans back in his chair, glaring at the brown, stone tabletop. Elise turns, setting a plate in front of each of us. I stare down at the glossy red ceramic, at the pile of steaming grilled cheese cut into fucking triangles.

My throat closes, even as my eyes remain as dry as the Sahara. Steam, smelling of butter and melted cheese, curls up and into my nose. My eyes nearly roll back. “Thank you,” I croak through the pressure. Be good. Don’t fuck this up.

But you’re going to, anyway. You already know that.

“Don’t thank me, Abel,” she says softly as she takes a seat between me and Peris. I feel her eyes, but I can’t meet her gaze. The woman’s already seen—already knows—far too much. And if she wasn’t bound by confidentiality, I might actually be worried she’d tell Peris things he really shouldn’t know.

A long pause stretches. Peris rotates his plate. His index finger flexes around the smooth edge.

“Anyhoo, I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d be… so there’s more in the microwave. Please eat as much as you want. There are snacks and whatever else in the cupboard and the fridge, too. Feel free to always help yourself,” she adds quickly before turning to Peris.

“When you’re done, I want the dishwasher loaded. And if Abel needs anything, help him. And show him his room, the bathroom, all that.” Her words are sharp and to the point. And each one lances straight through my heart.

He barely refrains himself from rolling his eyes, though it’s not with attitude but amusement. “Yeah, Ma. I’ve got you. I know how this works. It’s not my first rodeo.”

“Well I’d say not,” she concurs with a little laugh. “I’m gonna go get a nap in before I’ve gotta go back to work. They changed my schedule so I could sleep, given the circumstances. Abel, I probably won’t be able to see you much before school Monday, so if there’s anything you need before then, have Peris call me, and we’ll get it for you, okay? And don’t forget to do your breathing exercises. Ice your… injuries. Your pain medication is here on the counter,” she adds gently, even though I told her I’m not going to take it.

Her smile is so warm, so gentle, I can’t stand it. I keep my gaze aimed down at my food. Food made for me.

What the hell is my life right now?

Am I really going to fuck it all up for a game I instigated? A game I can’t seem to give up?

I wince, sinking my top teeth into my bleeding bottom lip.

Even I don’t want to search for the answer to that question.