Bully (29 page)

Jared.

My lips began to quiver. As I walked closer to the tree, I understood why so many people were hanging around outside now. The sight was beautiful.

I’d spent a lot of time climbing this tree, reading in it, and talking with Jared in it until the stars faded with morning’s light.

He’d done this for me. I didn’t know who else it could’ve been. This was our special place—one of many—and he’d lit it up with magic and wonder.

The quake in my chest grew stronger, and a few tears cascaded down my cheeks as I silently took in the spectacle.

“Do you know what this is about?” K.C. asked beside me.

“I have an idea.” My voice was hoarse from the lump in my throat.

Noticing something stuck to the tree trunk, I walked away from my dispersing neighbors and ripped the sheet of paper from its staple.

Yesterday lasts forever.

Tomorrow comes never.

Until you.

Breathless, I looked over to Jared’s house, but it was pitch black. Where was he?

“Why’s your bedroom light on?” K.C. piped up, and my eyes shot to the second floor of my house where, indeed, my light was shining. I never kept any lights on when I left the house, except for the one on the porch.

“I must’ve forgotten to turn it off,” I muttered distractedly as I hurried to the house. “I’ll see you later. Thanks for dinner,” I called out behind me, racing up the stairs.

“Uh…okay. Happy Birthday!” K.C. stuttered before I slammed the door. I was being most definitely rude, but my head was elsewhere now.

I dropped my jacket and purse on the floor. I could see my bedroom light shining from my open doorway, and I slowly climbed the stairs. I wasn’t scared, but my heart pounded, and my hands shook.

As I walked into the room, Jared sat on the rail outside my French doors. He looked beautifully disheveled, jeans hanging from his narrow hips and sexy-messy hair. My arms ached to hold him.

I wanted to forgive him and forget about everything right now, but my pride held me back.

Luckily, he didn’t give me a chance to make a decision.

“Is that what you were looking for in my room last night?” He gestured to a thick manila file folder on my bed.

I must’ve been fire engine red at that moment. All day, I’d been thinking about his behavior and what he was so afraid to tell me, and I’d forgotten about the fact that I’d let him know I was snooping in his room by shoving that picture at him last night. I guess I’d just wanted him to know that I knew something was up.

“Go ahead,” he urged gently. “Take a look.”

Debating for only a moment if he was serious or not, I walked to the bed and leaned down to open the folder. I nearly choked on my own air.

There were pictures, just like the one I’d found, of a boy—no, scratch that—of Jared bruised and bloodied. Scanning the pile of thirty or so photos, I caught Jared’s fourteen year old face in some of them. Others were of parts of his body.

I spread the photos out, carefully scanning each one.

The pictures detailed different injuries to the his body: legs, arms, but mainly his torso and back. In one of them, I saw the fresh mutilations of the faded scars Jared now had on his back.

I held my fist to my mouth to stifle a groan of disgust. “Jared, what is this? What happened to you?”

He looked down to his feet, and I could tell he was searching for words. Jared didn’t enjoy pity parties, especially his own.

So I waited.

“My father…he did that to me,” he spoke low as if he didn’t even want to admit to himself. “And to my brother.”

I snapped my eyes up to his.
What?! A brother?

Jared, like me, didn’t have any siblings.

He continued, “The summer before Freshman year, I was hyped up to spend my whole summer hanging out with you, but as you remember, my dad called out of the blue and wanted to see me. So I went. I hadn’t seen him in more than ten years, and I wanted to know him.”

I nodded and sat down on the bed. My mind was reeling from wondering how a parent could do this to their child—or children—but I wanted to hear about everything, including this brother.

“When I got there, I found out that my dad had another son. A kid from another relationship. His name is Jaxon, and he’s only about a year younger than me.”

Jared paused, looking thoughtful. His eyes had lit up when he said Jaxon’s name.

I couldn’t believe he had a brother. I’d known him so well growing up, and even though he didn’t find out about this secret brother until he’d been fourteen, it still felt wrong that I didn’t know this about him.

“Go on,” I prodded softly.

“Jaxon and I got along really well. Even though it was a shock to find out I’d had a brother that long without knowing, I was thankful to have a family. We were close in age, both into cars, and he wanted to be around me all the time. Hell, I wanted to be around him, too.”

I wondered if Jared still saw Jaxon, but I decided to shut up and ask questions later.

He continued, “My dad’s house was a real dump. It was dirty, and there was never a lot of food in the place, but I was enjoying my brother. It was just the three of us. The first couple of weeks weren’t that bad.”

Not that bad?

“Then I started to notice that something was off. Our dad drank a lot. He’d wake up with hangovers—which was nothing new for me with my mom—but then I started seeing drugs, too.
That
was new to me. His house parties were filled with these horrible fucking people who talked to us like you shouldn’t talk to kids.” Jared’s eyes started to pool with unshed tears, and his voice was barely a whisper. I started to get scared.

What the hell had happened?

After a few seconds of pause, he let out a huge sigh. “I kind of got the feeling that Jaxon might’ve been messed with by these people. Like “messed with” other than just roughed up.”

Messed with?
I sucked in my breath as realization dawned.

No. Please, not that.

He sat down next to me on the bed, still not making eye contact. “One night, about three weeks into my visit, I heard Jax crying in his room. I went in, and he was hunched over the bed holding his stomach. Once I got him to turn over I saw the bruises all over his abdomen. My dad had kicked him—more than once—and he was in a shitload of pain.”

I shut my eyes, trying not to picture the young boy.

Jared continued, “I didn’t know what to do. I was so fucking scared. My mother never hit me. I had no idea that people did these things to kids. I was sorry that I’d come but also glad, for Jax’s sake. If my father did this to him while I was here, I couldn’t even imagine what he did when I wasn’t around. Jax insisted that he was fine, and that he didn’t need a doctor.” Jared’s shoulders slumped, and I could feel the tension roll off his body as he spoke slowly and quietly.

“My dad targeted Jax. He was the bastard and worthy of less respect in my father’s eyes, apparently. He didn’t hit me until later.”

“Tell me.” I needed to know this. I wanted to know everything.

“One day—not long after I found out how he really treated Jax— my father asked us to go to a house and pretend to be selling something. He wanted to break inside and rob the place.”

“What?” I blurted out suddenly.

“From things they would say, I knew money was tight, especially with his expensive habits. Jax would tell me that this was normal, that he did this for my dad a lot. He never refused. My father abused him for anything and everything: burning dinner, making messes... Jax knew that saying no wouldn’t do any good. We’d still have to do the job but just with bruises. But I refused anyway. And my dad started hitting me.”

Nausea burned my stomach. While I was wasting away my summer resenting him for not calling or writing, he was being hurt. “Did you try to call your mom?” I choked out.

“Once.” He nodded. “It was before my father started abusing me. She was drunk, of course. She didn’t see it as a bad situation, so she didn’t come to get me. I tried to tell her about Jax, but she didn’t consider him her problem. I thought about just getting out of there, running away. But Jax wouldn’t leave, and I couldn’t leave him.”

Thank God she’d cleaned herself up otherwise I’d have to hurt her.

“So I gave in to my father,” Jared admitted flatly, his eyes waiting for my reaction. “I helped him and Jax do jobs. I broke into houses, delivered drugs for him.” He walked back to the window and peered out at the tree. “One day, after weeks of hell, I refused to listen to him and demanded to go home. And I was taking Jax with me.” He pulled his t-shirt over his head and showed me his back. “He took a belt to me, the end with the buckle.”

I ran my fingers across his scars. The edges were rigid, but the dip of the welts was smooth. There weren’t very many, and his skin was still gorgeous.

He paused for a moment and turned to meet my gaze, the ghost of his pain still deep in his eyes. “So I finally just ran away. I stole fifty bucks and jumped a bus home. Without Jax.”

I could see the agony in his eyes. What had happened to his brother? Jared had thought that life with Katherine was bad, but his father turned out to be a horror. And he had to make the decision to abandon ship without his brother.

“Did you go to the police?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Not at first. There was no way I wanted to deal with that. I just wanted to forget about it. But when my mom saw what happened to me, she forced me to go. I never told them what happened to me, but I did report what happened to my brother. She insisted on taking pictures of me just in case, though. The police took my brother away from my dad and put him into foster care. I wanted him with me, but my mom’s drinking didn’t inspire any confidence with the state.”

“Have you seen your dad since?” I wanted to gag using the word “dad” for a man like that.

“I saw him today.” Jared stunned me. “I see him every weekend.”

“What?! Why?” So that’s where he went, but how could he put himself in the same room as a monster like that?

“Because life’s a bitch, that’s why.” He gave me a bitter smile and looked away. “Last year, after you left for France, I went a little crazy. I drank and got into a lot of fights. Madoc and I both had a ball for a while. I hated that you were gone, but I’d also found out that Jax had been transferred to another foster home after the last family had hit him. It was a bad time.”

He got up to go stand at the window, and I noticed he was clenching his fists. He wasn’t teary anymore. He was pissed.

“So I tracked down his old foster dad, and I fucked him up. Like, really bad.” His eyebrows lifted, but there was no regret in his tone. “He was in the hospital for a week. The judge decided that, while my feelings were understandable, my reaction was not. He thought it would be poetic to sentence me to forced visits with my father in prison, since he was still in jail for abusing my brother as well as the drugs that the cops found at his house. It looked like I was on the same path, so the judge ordered one visit a week for a year.”

“So that’s where you go. To Stateville Prison in Crest Hill.” It wasn’t a question, just a clarification. I remembered the receipts in his room.

“Yeah, every Saturday. Today was my last visit, though.”

I nodded gratefully. “Where is your brother now?”

The first hint of a smile played on Jared’s lips. “He’s in Weston. Safe and sound with a good family. I’ve been seeing him on Sundays. But my mom and I are trying to get the state to agree to let him live with us. She’s been sober for a while. He’s almost seventeen, so it’s not like he’s a kid.”

This was a lot to absorb. I was elated that he’d finally confided in me. He’d been hurt, which had probably made him feel abandoned by the people that should’ve protected him. But I was still puzzled about one thing.

I walked over to him. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this years ago? I could’ve been there for you.” I got up from the bed, and walked over to him.

He ran a hand through his hair and inched away from me to lean on the railing. “When I finally got home that summer, you were my first thought. Well, other than doing what I could to help Jax. I had to see you. My mom could go to hell. All I wanted was you. I loved you.” He gripped the railing at his sides, and his body went rigid. “I went to your house, but your grandma said you were out. She tried to get me to stay. I think she saw that I didn’t look right. But I ran off to find you, anyway. After a while, I found myself at the fish pond in the park.” He raised his eyes to meet mine. “And there you were…with your dad and my mom, playing the little family.”

The little family?

“Jared—” I started.

“Tate, you didn’t do anything wrong. I know that now. You just have to understand my mindset. I had been through hell. I was weak and hurting from the abuse. I was hungry. I’d been betrayed by the people I was supposed to be able to count on: my mom who didn’t help when I needed her, my dad who hurt me and my helpless brother. And then I saw you with
our
parents, looking like the happy, sweet family. While Jaxon and I were in pain and struggling to make it through every day in one piece, you got to see the mother that I never had. Your dad took you on picnics and for ice cream while mine was whipping me. I felt like no one wanted me and that life moved on without me. No one cared.”

Jared’s mom had gone on a couple of outings with us that summer. My dad was always trying to help her get straight. He loved Jared and knew Katherine was a good person at heart. He was only trying to get her out of the house and show her, in a humble way, what she was missing out on with her own son.

“You became a target, Tate. I hated my parents, I was worried about my brother, and I sure as hell couldn’t rely on anyone but myself. When I hated you, it made me feel better. A lot better. Even after I realized that nothing was your fault, I still couldn’t stop trying to hate you. It felt good, because I couldn’t hurt who I wanted to hurt.”

Silent tears streamed down my face, and Jared walked up to me and cupped my cheeks with his hands. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know I can make this up to you. Don’t hate me.”