Page 21 of Santino (The Camboy Network #4)

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

HAYDEN

“Denny!”

Heavy footsteps echo through the apartment and I groan. I’ve never understood how Rhys can be such a loud walker when he’s literally half my size.

“Denny!”

What does he want? Why is he waking me up? Doesn’t he know how early it is?

“Denny?”

Next to me, someone moves, sitting bolt upright and dragging some of the covers with him. Cold air from the air conditioning rushes into the warm cocoon I’ve been nestled in. I whine and squirm, trying to burrow back into the warmth.

“Uh, this isn’t… we didn’t…”

Santino. My brain finally registers what’s going on.

We’re in bed together—but not my bed. In his bed, in his room.

We’re both naked, save for our underwear.

Because we didn’t bother putting clothes on again after our late-night shower.

And because I liked the feeling of his skin against mine, with nothing between us, nothing separating us.

But now it’s morning and I guess Rhys has just found us in bed together?

“Denny! Wake up!”

“Dude—chill. He had a late night, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure you both did.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Okay, let’s all take a breath.” That’s Sebastian. What’s Sebastian doing here? “Why don’t you guys get dressed?”

“But Sebby?—”

“Come on, Rhys. Do you really want to talk to them while they’re lying naked in bed?”

Rhys lets out a frustrated sound, then stomps out toward the living room. “I can’t believe they’re in my bed.”

For some reason, that’s the thing that wakes me all the way up. His bed. Rhys’s bed. That he left here when he moved out.

I roll over and open my eyes blearily. Santino is sitting up, covers pooled in his lap. I can see the crease of his ass from this angle. The long, elegant curve of his back. The deep valley of his spine.

He turns and lies back down next to me, pulling the covers up to my chest.

“I thought we were supposed to get dressed,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes.

Santino gives me his lopsided smile. “They barged in here unannounced. They can wait a few minutes for us to wake up.”

I sigh. I’m awake. Unfortunately. I’d much rather be asleep and unconscious, all wrapped up in the safety of Santino’s arms. “What are they doing here?”

Santino’s shoulder rises and falls in a half-shrug. “I don’t know. But Rhys is definitely upset.”

Which is never a good sign. Especially not when you’re on the receiving end of his ire.

I don’t know what he could be upset with me about though.

We haven’t spoken in a couple days and he’s not the type to sit on something if it’s bothering him.

If I did something or said something that pissed him off, he would’ve told me already.

Sebastian, on the other hand… I groan and slap a hand over my face. Fuck. He’s been trying to talk to me for days now and I’ve been avoiding him at every turn. He probably called Rhys to see if he knew anything. Then they both decided to show up for a what—an intervention?

Santino’s gentle fingers wrap around my wrist and carefully tug my hand away from my face.

“Hey, you don’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to.

But…” He tilts his head and his brows draw together in concern.

“It might not be a bad idea. They’re your friends.

They care about you. They want to help.”

Panic and fear seize me. No, I can’t let them know.

Not now after I’ve spent so many months lying to them.

They’ll be hurt and upset. They won’t understand why I didn’t want to tell them.

They’ll think it’s their fault. That they did something wrong.

When it’s not their fault at all. It’s mine.

Everything is my fault. I’m the one to blame.

The ache grows, gradual but steady, until it feels like an anvil sitting on my chest. I sit up, wincing as I force my lungs to expand.

This is it. This is when your friends find out just what kind of piece of shit human you are. They’re here to break up with you. They’re here to tell you never to contact them again.

No. Stop. Go away. I slam the heels of my hands against my temples as if that will make the voice shut up.

“Hayden?” Santino wraps himself around me and presses kisses to my shoulder. “What is it? Is it the voice?”

I nod as shame fills me. God, I can’t believe I told him about that yesterday. He must think I’m a fucking freak.

Yeah, he totally does.

“Whatever it’s saying, babe, you know it’s not true, right? You’re not a loser. You’re not worthless.”

What the hell does he know? He just met you. He hasn’t seen how depraved you are on the inside.

“Hey, babe.” Santino rearranges us so we’re facing each other, then pulls my hands away from my head so he can cup both of my cheeks. “Listen to me. You can’t fight this on your own. You shouldn’t have to fight it on your own. Let us help you. Let your friends help you.”

No, but… god, I want that so much. I want to stop fighting. I want to give up. I want to throw my hands up in the air and let this be someone else’s problem. And yet, I don’t. I can’t. I don’t understand. My friends are amazing. I know they want to help. Why is it so hard for me to let them?

You know what would really help? If you actually gave up. Just walk straight into the ocean. Sure, they might miss you for a bit. They’ll even have a nice funeral. But they’ll go on with their lives. They’ll be fine. And eventually, it’ll be like you never existed in the first place.

The pain is searing. Right in the middle of my chest. Like I’ve been stabbed straight through my heart. I squeeze my eyes shut against the pain. I struggle to breathe. I lie back down, curled up in a little ball.

I just want it to end. Please, just let this end.

“Hayden? Hayden. Hey, talk to me. What’s happening? What’s going on?” Santino puts his face right in front of mine. Forehead to forehead. Nose to nose. “Babe, please. Talk to me.”

You can’t tell him. What’s the point? You’re useless. Hopeless. There’s nothing they can do to help you. You’re beyond saving.

“I can’t stop it.” I sound like I’m dying. I feel like I’m dying. I kind of want to. Dying means not having to go through any of this anymore.

“Stop what? The voice? What is it saying?”

“It… it…”

You won’t actually say it out loud. You don’t have the balls. Haven’t you been humiliated enough? Why let him know how truly perverted you are?

“It says I should…”

Don’t dooo it. Don’t dooo it.

“Should what, babe? What should you do?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. My lungs burn. My chest burns. My stomach twists up in knots. “Die.” I just barely manage to croak the single word.

Santino doesn’t respond. Not immediately. Maybe he didn’t hear me. Maybe he did and he thinks I’m a lunatic. Maybe he thinks I’m insane and needs to be locked up for my own good.

But then he hauls me to him, cradles me in his arms, head tucked under his chin.

“No. Just no. You hear me? No.” He holds me so tight, rocking me side to side.

His legs hook around mine, locking behind my knees.

It’s like he’s afraid I’ll run off. Like he can physically stop me from doing something stupid.

I cling to him. I don’t want to die. Not really. I just want this to stop. Please, somebody make it stop.

“No. You can’t. I won’t let that happen. I just found you. I can’t lose you. Do you understand? We’ll get you help. We’ll get you help and you’ll get better and I’ll be here the entire way so you’re not alone. You never have to be alone.”

The words tumble past Santino’s lips in a jumble, so fast I’m not even sure he’s talking to me anymore. But I feel every syllable he utters like a tether drawing me in, securing me, keeping me anchored. I let his words wash over me, soothing and calming, until the bone-deep hurt starts to ease.

I’m not sure how long we lie there, all tangled up in each other. It’s long enough that I think Rhys and Sebastian must have left. There’s no way Rhys would wait around without knocking on the door every five minutes.

But when we finally manage to dress and drag ourselves out of bed, they’re still there. Sitting in the living room. Rhys is on his phone. Sebastian’s on his laptop. Waiting as if they have all the time in the world.

Embarrassment rushes through me. I wish they’d gotten impatient and left. Then I wouldn’t have to face them. Then I could avoid this conversation a little longer.

They both glance up at me from their spots on the couch with equal parts concern and hope.

God, I’m such an asshole. I’m so fucking selfish.

I’ve made things so much worse than they needed to be.

If I’d been honest from the start, we could’ve dealt with it and moved on.

But no, I had to pretend I was a tough guy who could handle things on his own.

And where's that gotten me? My friends are wasting their day away, sitting in my living room, waiting for me to get my shit together.

“Do you guys, um, want something to drink?” I ask, not knowing what else to say.

“Oh my god, Denny, just sit the fuck down.” Rhys slaps his hand on the spot next to him.

Except it’s only big enough for one person and I don’t want to let go of Santino’s hand. Rhys must read my hesitation on my face because he rolls his eyes and moves so there’s enough room for both of us.

“You go sit. I’ll get drinks.” Santino gives me a nudge toward the couch.

It takes me a split second too long to let him go.

“You want to tell us what the hell is going on?” Rhys asks when I sit down. “And don’t say you’re fine, because we know you’re not fucking fine.”

“Rhys,” Sebastian scolds.

“What? It’s true.” Rhys is curled up with his knees tucked against his chest, arms wrapped around his shins. He’s got a glower on his face that could rival Noel’s and his chin is stuck out in an epic pout. But he’s on the verge of crying with his eyes filling with tears.

Guilt makes my embarrassment worse. Rhys is crying because of me. Because I lied to him and hid the truth for so long.

“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have moved out.” Rhys wipes angrily at his cheeks. “I knew something was wrong. I should’ve stayed.”

“No!” The word comes out a little too forcefully. “No, you deserve to be with Angel. I didn’t want to get in the way of that.”

“But not at your expense!” Rhys shifts so he’s kneeling on the couch cushions, ready for a fight.

I shrink into myself, slouching down so he looms above me.

I know he’s not trying to be mean. I know he’s only yelling because he’s worried and scared.

And I’m responsible. If I’d said something sooner, none of this would’ve happened.

If I had told him the first dozen times he asked if something was wrong, we wouldn’t be here right now.

Santino comes back with an armful of LaCroix. He sets them down on the coffee table without bothering to hand them out. The second his ass hits the couch, he’s got his arm around my shoulders and I lean into the comfort of his body.

Rhys’s eyes narrow and he glares at Santino, who just holds me tighter. “Are you two fucking?”

Sebastian groans and drops his head into his hands. “Oh my god, Rhys.”

“What? It’s a legitimate question. Just because they filmed a scene together doesn’t mean he gets to take advantage of Denny.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, bro,” Santino spits back at Rhys. “I’m the only one who’s here. I’m the one who noticed he was hurting and did something about it. What the fuck have you done?”

Rhys blanches and more tears escape his lashes. “How dare you. How fucking dare you? You’ve been here for what? A couple weeks? And you’ll be leaving soon too. I’m Denny’s best friend. I’ll still be here when you’re long gone.”

“Some best friend you are.”

“Okay!” Sebastian jumps to his feet, hands held out to stop them both from continuing. “That’s enough. You two arguing over who cares more about Hayden isn’t actually helping.”

Santino harrumphs and Rhys’s chin lifts an inch.

God, I’m such a terrible person. I’m an awful friend.

All I did was make two perfectly nice people argue with each other over something so stupid.

What does it matter who cares more about me?

I don’t deserve it either way. They have better things to do with their lives.

Sebastian moves the cans of LaCroix out of the way and sits down on the coffee table in front of me. He pins me with that look he has. The one he uses when he’s in charge and on a mission. No one says no to Sebastian when he’s like this. “This didn’t start when Rhys moved out, did it?”

I hesitate, aghast that I’m actually going to admit to it. But I shake my head, feeling like a schoolboy getting scolded by the principal.

“It’s been months already.” Sebastian tilts his head in thought. “Maybe a year?”

I nod.

“Can you tell us what this is all about?”