Chapter Twenty-Six
Declan
I was sitting in the armchair going over my notes for my upcoming campaign—not exactly an exciting Friday night, but, hey, Trent worked tonight—when I heard a loud knock at the door. I checked the time and frowned. It was after eleven and I wasn’t exactly expecting anybody this late. I set my file on the table and went to the door. When I checked through the peephole, my brow furrowed, but I opened the door.
When Trent looked up at me, and I saw the expression on his face, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
He ran a shaky hand through his hair and whispered, “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” I opened the door all the way and inwardly cursed myself for not letting him in immediately. He walked through and I shut the door, then leaned against it and watched him pace back and forth in front of the dining table. After his third lap, I asked, “What’s going on, Trent?”
Without looking at me, he started muttering under his breath, though I could still understand him. “He’s such an asshole. I can’t believe… how could he say that? I’m so stupid for thinking…”
“Trent,” I said gently after watching him mutter to himself for several minutes. “Tell me what’s going on.”
He paused his steps and glanced at me with wide eyes as if he was just realizing I was there. He started pacing again, but spoke louder as he told me, “Evan is such an asshole.”
“Okay… what did he do?”
“We got in a fight… he’s been… you know he’s been staying with me, right? I mean, obviously you know that already… you’ve known since he moved in. Sorry, I don’t know what I’m even saying right now.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I’ve been trying to get that ungrateful little brat a job, but he’s acting like I’m trying to control him. He’d been living out of his car for over a year! Until I took him in! I’m only trying to help!”
He raised his voice, yelling at me, but I knew he was just upset and needed to get his frustration out, so I remained where I was and listened.
“He kept going on and on about me always being a meddling, controlling jerk who thought he was better than everyone else. Can you believe that?” He glanced at me, but I still didn’t move. “He seriously thinks I’m some snobby asshole. I’m not a… I don’t think I’m better than anyone!” He stopped walking and looked at me. “Do you think I come off that way? Is that what you thought before you knew me? Or do you still think that?”
I shook my head. “No, not at all.”
He eyed me for a moment, probably gauging my sincerity. He nodded to himself and resumed his pacing. “I’m just so pissed. All I wanted to do was help him. I want him to be happy, you know? I want him to grow up and get a goddamn job so he doesn’t have to worry about where he’s going to sleep or when he’ll get his next meal or next shower, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like I care if he lives with me, but fuck, I know he doesn’t want to live there in that tiny-ass apartment forever. He leaves every chance he gets!”
He stopped walking and put his hands on his hips but didn’t turn to me. “He called me so many names, I don’t even remember them all.” His voice was lower, sadder. “It’s like… it’s like he just wanted to hurt me. It wasn’t enough to just yell at me and be mean as fuck, he wanted to make sure I was hurt.”
His anger seemed to drain away, and all that was left was the hurt. I swallowed down my own emotions at seeing my best friend in pain. He was normally so happy and didn’t care what was said about him. He didn’t usually let rude or snide comments get to him, but the hurt was painted clearly on his face and was rolling off him in waves.
“I don’t…” He ran a hand through his hair. “He said that I was such a terrible person it was no wonder my parents died and left me alone.” His voice broke and he took a shuddered breath, obviously holding in tears.
“He said that to you?” I asked. What kind of person says something like that? I want to kick that little asshole’s ass.
Trent nodded and turned his back to me. “He said ‘now I know why you’re all alone and nobody loves you.’” I could see him taking unsteady breaths. I knew he was on the verge of tears and all I wanted to do was go to him, comfort him, make him feel happy again. But he wasn’t looking at me, and I knew it was because he wanted space. So I didn’t move, though it took everything in me not to.
“Trent,” I whispered, my own throat closing up with emotion. He was hurting and I couldn’t make it better.
He turned to me with tears in his eyes and whispered, “I thought he actually cared about me… I thought… I thought I had a family again.” A small broken sob escaped him, and I couldn’t take it anymore; I had to comfort him.
I walked over and pulled him in, and he immediately fell into my chest. His shoulders started shaking with his quiet crying. I wrapped him in my arms as tight as I could, then slid one hand up to the back of his hair, holding him close. His hands were stuck between our chests, but once I started rubbing his back, he wrapped them around me and cried harder.
“It’s okay… it’ll be okay. He didn’t mean it.”
“He… did,” he gasped out between cries.
“No, he didn’t. He loves you. He was just being a jerk. That’s what brothers do.”
“He told me… he said I’m not his brother… that I never… was.” He hiccupped and cried even harder.
My jaw clenched in anger, but I still said, “He didn’t mean it.” That little motherfucker.
“I’m… all alone again.”
I rubbed his back and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “You’re not alone, Trent. You’ll never be alone again. You have me and I’m not going anywhere, you hear me?”
He nodded against my chest, then shifted his arms to wrap them around my neck and bury his head under my chin. He didn’t say anything more, but I could feel his tears against my skin. I wanted to do something—anything to help him, but I didn’t know what else to do, so I just held him and continued rubbing his back and squeezing him tight and letting him cry on me.
After standing there for a long time, I could tell he was exhausted—so was I—but I also knew he didn’t want to pull away from me. If I was being honest, I’d admit that I didn’t want to pull away, either. I loved having him in my arms, though I wasn’t happy for the reason—that he was only there because he was hurting.
Instead of pulling away, I walked him into the living room without letting go, hitting the light switch on the way. When we made it to the couch, I laid him down, then climbed behind him and pulled the throw blanket over us. I heard him kick his shoes off as I put a throw pillow under my head, then pulled him back so he could use my biceps as a pillow. I wrapped my other arm around him and pulled his back tight against my chest. After a few minutes, he grabbed my hand and laced his fingers though mine. He brushed a sweet, soft kiss across my knuckles, then pulled my arm more snuggly around him, keeping our combined hands right under his chin.
I held him tight as he sniffled for a long time before his breathing slowed and evened out once he fell asleep. I nuzzled into him a little and buried my nose in his apple-scented hair. I placed a gentle kiss on his head before trying to settle into sleep. Having him in my arms, breathing in his sweet scent, knowing that I was the one he’d reached out to—it made something settle inside me. He fit so perfectly; he felt so right. It made me wish for things I never thought I’d wish for, things I was afraid to want, things I could never ask for. Not from him. Not from the one person I cared more about than anyone else in the world. I couldn’t risk it. He’d leave and I’d be left an unfixable mess. Or I’d do something stupid and break his heart, just like I’d done to Levi. I’d never hurt him like that. I’d never hurt him the way I’d hurt everyone else. I couldn’t. Trent deserved the world—the universe—and I was just about the furthest thing from that.