Kings of Hawkings [bxb]

Chapter 45

Jonas looked around the room at the people who stood by him without hesitation. He pulled Hugh onto his lap, nuzzling his neck with an exhausted sigh. His friends had questions, but they kept their curiosities to themselves out of respect.

Still, Jonas could sense the turmoil beneath their silence—how they were torn up every time another of his dark secrets was revealed. And he had no idea how to ease their pain.

He wished he could tell them it wasn't always that bad, but it would be a lie. The only difference now was that Clark had turned his attention and hatred toward Eli instead of him. Jonas had no comforting words, no lies to soften the truth.

"I'm sorry," Jonas rasped out, startling the group with the suddenness of his voice. "I never wanted to drag people into my mess, but I keep doing it. First with St. Vincent's, and now with my father."

A chorus of protests started to rise, but Hugh silenced them with a firm shake of his head. Jonas could feel the tension in the room—the worry and frustration of his friends, who were being confronted with his dark secrets piece by piece. He wanted to shield them from it all, but he couldn't.

"You don't have to be sorry," Hugh said softly, his voice cutting through the silence. "We're here because we care about you, sweetheart. We chose to be here, and that won't change."

Jonas sighed, his voice tinged with sorrow. "I don't know when things got this bad. I mean, they've always been bad, but why go after Eli like this? Why go to this extent?" He paused, the question more to himself than anyone else. "It should have been me."

"It shouldn't have been anyone," Hugh replied quietly, his voice steady. "You've been shielding and protecting Eli for a long time, but that shouldn't have been your responsibility."

Jonas laughed hollowly, the sound filled with bitterness. He buried his face against Hugh's shoulder. "When I was young, I watched an MMA fight on TV. I don't remember much about it, except the commentator said the fighter had good defense, which minimized damage. It's not just about how hard you can hit, but how well you can avoid getting hit."

Hugh nodded, listening intently as Jonas continued.

"So I decided to learn how to fight," Jonas whispered. "Back then, it was the only reason I needed—a survival instinct. I trained like mad just to take another hit and keep Eli safe. But seeing him like this... it feels like my ten years of training were all for nothing."

Hugh gently squeezed his hand. "Or maybe he avoided this hospital bed for ten years because of your efforts," he interjected. "But I'll repeat, this shouldn't have been your responsibility. Clark should have been a better father."

Jonas nodded numbly. "I just... wish he never had to see that place."

"And how long did you have to be locked there? How long have you seen that fucking basement?" Hugh demanded, his voice trembling with anger. He hated seeing the man he loved so terrified of a place. Hugh could punch someone or defend his friends if needed, but this was different. How could he fight the monsters in Jonas' memories?

"I don't know," Jonas answered, his voice heavy with regret. "It wasn't so bad at first. It was even manageable. But then things started falling apart at school, and I lost the balance I was desperately trying to hold onto. The attacks at school were like a constant reminder of what was going on at home. I could fight back at school, but at home..."

Hugh squeezed his hand, silently urging him to continue.

Jonas took a shaky breath. "Locking me away was my father's way of controlling me, breaking me down. And the attacks at school... they felt like a continuation of that. Like I couldn't escape it, no matter where I was."