Page 21

Chapter 20

Louis

I fill the bathtub with water and shower gel and tear off my shirt, longing to wash off the sweat and dust from the shooting range. When I turn around, Sparrow is just standing there, staring at the tub, as if mesmerized by the steady flow of hot water.

I strip down fully, ripping my pants off along with my underwear and socks. “You’re just going to stand there?”

He blinks and shakes his head. “Uh, no, I just…”

“Want me to help you?”

He nods.

Weird. He’s not usually this quiet.

I grab the hem of his shirt, and he lifts his hands over his head. That’s a good sign at least, though it’s almost as if he does it on autopilot. I guess I’ve done this a lot—helping him in and out of his clothes and into bed. This time, he’s a lot stiffer than usual though—mouth a tight line, eyes refusing to meet mine. Chalking it up to exhaustion, I proceed to slide his pants off. He steps out of them, then I bend to pull off his socks.

It’s crazy how good this feels. Tender. I’m still learning, but given some time, maybe I can find it in me to take care of him the way he needs—the way he deserves.

The tub barely fits me, so I’m not sure how this is going to work. I sink into the water first and motion for Sparrow to sit in front of me, our legs touching and his body lined up against mine. His skinny pale knees stick out above the water next to my massive, hairy tan ones.

I exhale and lean back, letting the aches of my body dissolve into the water. I expect Sparrow to do the same, but then I hear his breath quicken and go shallow.

“Too hot?” My voice echoes against the tile walls, and I slide a hand up his torso, feeling the increased beat of his heart.

“N-No,” he says, but something is clearly wrong. Despite the heat, he’s shaking. He cowers every time our skin touches, and his lower lip trembles as if he’s about to start crying.

“You still with me, boy?”

His gaze flicks up to meet mine, but he doesn’t reply. He’s like a startled animal. Any moment now, I expect him to shoot out of the tub and spray water everywhere, but he stays put, squeezing his shoulders together as if trying to appear as small as possible.

“Is this about what happened at the gun range?” I ask.

Sparrow keeps shaking, and his tremors come out in his voice too. “Are you a-angry with me?”

“No.” He did freak me out a little bit—okay, a lot , but angry? No. I can never be angry with him. “Why do you always ask that?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do know. You just don’t want to tell me.”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, seeming close to tears.

Maybe I shouldn’t pry, but at the same time, some force might be required to get him to open up. It’s like unveiling an infected wound to wipe the dirt and pus away, even if it hurts, and then patch it back up to help it finally heal.

“Were you thinking about him?” I ask. “Aaron?”

Sparrow nods. He wraps his arms around his legs and leans his face on his knees. “I was bathing.”

“Mm?”

“The first time it happened,” he clarifies. “The first time he noticed me.”

“Noticed you?”

“The first time he wanted to be with me.”

I think I know what he’s getting at, but the way he says it is strange, to say the least.

“First time he forced you, you mean?”

Sparrow makes a quiet, whimpering noise, like I just pinched his skin. “No. No, he…he didn’t force me. I wanted it.”

“You were just a kid. A child.”

“He was so cool,” Sparrow whispers. “Even though he had so many friends, he noticed me . He wanted me .”

“So you liked him?”

“Yeah, I liked him,” Sparrow says, louder now. “That’s why it wasn’t like that.”

“Doesn’t matter if you liked him or not. He forced himself on you, multiple times, the way it seems like. It was wrong. He gave you no choice.”

“No.” Sparrow shakes his head, smearing tears onto his knees. “No.”

“Don’t you remember what I told you? How you should always have a choice to say yes or no?”

Sparrow nods miserably.

“Doesn’t seem like it was that way between you two.”

“It wasn’t,” he agrees. “I said no sometimes, and he did it anyway.”

I sigh. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I want to stroke his arms, to make him feel at peace with me, with opening up about this, but something tells me it would only make things worse. “How long did it go on?”

He cowers from my touch, his skinny back drawing away from my chest as his shoulders heave. “Until I left for college.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Because he betrayed me.”

“Betrayed you? What, you mean he cheated on you or something?”

His breath hitches, and he sniffles against his knees.

I want to hug him—want to get him out of the bath, wrap my arms around him, and dry his tears—but I can’t. I have a feeling this is the only way he’ll open up to me—with his back turned, submerged in the water, reliving what was obviously a painful memory for him. I can’t break that spell. Not when I’m right on the cusp of breaking him open.

He sucks in a shaky breath and starts to speak. “During those years, I was bullied in school a lot. I tried to make friends, but every time I reached out to someone, they turned me away. I was alone. So alone. My life wasn’t all bad though; at the end of every school day, I knew Aaron would be waiting for me at home. He was there for me, always.”

“By being there for you, you mean…”

“Uh, yes.” He whips a glance my way, blushing. “We didn’t just have sex though! We did other things too.”

“Like what?”

His blush deepens. “Like … cuddling.”

My mouth twitches into a frown. Either the water is already growing cold, or my unease is making me shiver all over. “Tell me more.”

“During my senior year, I found out…” He says the next part quickly, spluttering the words out, purging them from deep within. “I found out they were all being paid to do that to me. The bullies were paid off to bully me, and my classmates were paid off to ignore me. By Aaron. He was the reason all along. He wanted me isolated and friendless. He wanted me dependent on him. And I was.” His voice breaks, and his head dips down between his knees.

“Oh, Sparrow …”

“ He was the one to give me that name. He said I was small and weak like a bird. That I was hollow inside—hollow-boned like a sparrow. My real name is Sam. I’m Sam.”

“Sam,” I say as I stroke his back, soothing his hulking cries. “Sam.”

He sniffles and turns around to look at me, eyes red-rimmed. “But I like it when you call me little Sparrow. I don’t want you to stop.”

“Okay. Okay, little Sparrow.”

He looks up at me, breath halfway stuck in his throat, voice so thin and broken it rips me up inside. “He’s still with me. He’s always with me.” Voice breaking, he whimpers, “What am I supposed to do? What do I do, Louis?”

“I don’t know.” My throat thickens up with tears, but I can’t start crying too. I don’t know how to cry, and I don’t know how to make things right. I can’t fucking do anything to help him, except hold his small, shaking body through the worst of it and weather this storm, lest it bring us both down with it. I have to stay strong for him. I’m supposed to be the older one, the wiser one. I’m supposed to have all the answers. But I don’t have the answer to this. “I don’t know, little Sparrow.” The truth is, there’s nothing he can do, and short of finding the fucker and making him pay, there’s nothing I can do either.

“He hurt me, didn’t he?” Sparrow chokes out. He turns around fully and burrows his cheek into my chest, and I hold him. “It was painful a lot of the time, what we did, but it’s never painful with you. You take care of me. I thought he took care of me too, but he never did. He only hurt me. You’d never hurt me, right, Louis?”

“Never,” I tell him, because what else can I say? I’ve hurt others, yeah, but I don’t want to hurt him. There’s no use in letting him know how fragile that promise is.

“I want to kill him,” Sparrow says suddenly.

I frown and look away, taking too long to reply.

Sparrow puts his hands on my shoulders, shaking me. “Don’t you get why?”

“I get why, but…I can’t let you do that.”

His expression scrunches up with rage and sorrow. “Why?”

“Don’t get me wrong—I want him dead too, but you have to let me do it. I already have blood on my hands.”

“And what about what I want, huh?” Sparrow snarls, face covered in tears and snot. I try to dry his face with my thumbs, but he bats me away. “What about me?”

“You don’t get it. Once you’ve killed another human being, you can’t undo that. You can’t regret it, because if you do, it’ll tear you up inside for the rest of your life. Let me spare you that risk, little Sparrow. Let me bear that burden for you. If you regret his death once I’ve killed him, you’ll hate me , not yourself.”

“But I don’t want to hate you,” Sparrow cries. “And I already hate myself.”

“Stop.” I try to grab hold of him, but he evades my grasp. He stands up, gets out of the bath, and runs naked into the living room. I follow and envelop him in my arms.

“No!” he wails.

“Shh,” I soothe him, holding him so tight he can’t escape. He thrashes in my grip, and we sink to the ground, me clutching his curled-up body. “I’ve got you, boy. I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

His thrashing stops, and he inhales a shaky, shuddering breath. “I’m not worried. You’re with me. You’ve got me. And you’re not like him; you’d never hurt me.”

I shut my eyes, and for a moment, I allow myself to believe he’s right.

Fuck, he wondered what he was supposed to do, but what am I supposed to do? I told him from the start I’m not fit to take care of him, and he needs so much. He needs someone who can weather this storm better than I can.

Someone good. Someone kind. Not me.

“I needed him so badly back then,” Sparrow whispers. “And he gave me what I needed. But it was all just a trick, a fun game he was playing with me, and I didn’t even know it. I’m so stupid.” New tears pour down his cheeks.

“Listen to me.” I push him away to look him in the eye. “I won’t let anything happen to you. If we ever run into Aaron, I’ll kill him for you. Is that what you want, little Sparrow?”

“Yes.” He leans in and gives me a salty kiss, his breath hitching into my mouth.

I stroke his sides, hands flowing up and down his body. We stay like that for a long time, and I try my damnedest to ignore the uneasy feeling that I’ve now given him a string of promises I won’t be able to keep.