Kiss with a Fist

Chapter 1

Billy watched the ash fall as he flicked his cigarette. The cold wind blowing through his window made every wound on his face sting.

A split lip.
A cut going through his eyebrow.
A head wound.
Bruised-possibly broken ribs.

He wheezed. Okay-definitely broken ribs.
There were countless bruises as well, ones that made his body ache.

Some of the injuries were courtesy of Steve Fucking Harrington.

Max had snuck out. His father hadn't liked that.

"Respect and responsibility." Neil had hissed as he held Billy against the wall by his throat.

Then he'd sent Billy to go find Max.

He'd found her at a strangers house in the woods, with four boys and Harrington.

Billy acted like he didn't care about Max but he did, and with the heavy threat of Neil hanging over his head, he was scared.

Everything after was a red blur. He remembered the Sinclair kid trying to grab him. He'd told Max to stay away from that kid. If Neil found out...he'd kill Sinclair and maybe Max too.

Then Harrington got involved. Billy had hoped, prayed even, that Steve would stay down after the first punch, he didn't.

So he threw a second punch. King Steve got back up.

He threw a third punch and silently begged that Steve would just stay the fuck down. He didn't want to drag this out.

Steve fought back.

That's when it all went to shit.

Steve slammed Billy into the wall-just like his father did, and something in Billy's brain snapped. He was no longer fighting Steve, he was fighting his father. He grabbed a plate and swung.

A red haze had obscured his vision as he punched and punched. He was in a life and death battle. He had to win. He had to beat his dad.

Then Max drugged him. As Billy fell back with a thud, the red fading from his vision, he caught sight of Steve laying in a bloody pulp and he realised-he'd been hitting Harrington not his father.

Guilt twisted in his stomach, quickly replaced by fear as Max slammed down a nailed bat-extremely close to his crown jewels and screamed at him to say he understood.

He had whispered it, voice hoarse. Part of him proud and part of him terrified.

He'd had gone home that night without Max, and his father had nearly killed him for it.

He had been thrown against the counter tops, a heavy boot kicking him in the ribs.

"I SEND YOU OUT TO GO LOOK FOR HER AND YOU COME BACK HIGH?!" Neil had screeched as he slammed his boot into Billy ribs till Billy was coughing up blood.

He muttered an "I'm sorry sir." Not even trying to explain or defend himself. There was no point. He wasn't going to escape his father's wrath regardless.

It had been an hour of pure hell. The kicks had turned into punches, blow after blow aimed at his already messed up ribs, then at his face.

Then Neil took his belt off and used it as a whip. It lashed at Billy's back, ripping through his shirt and tearing open his skin, leaving thick red welts that dropped blood down his back. Billy desperately held back tears, this was the worst it had been for a while. Not the worst,  but still pretty bad. By the time Neil finished, Billy was a bloody pulp-just like Steve had been-possibly even worse.

Billy waited until he heard the door slam and the car drive away. Then he sobbed.

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