Reign of the Rejected Rosary (Ryden/Peterick)

Chapter Nineteen

When Patrick and I stepped into our hotel room the first thing I noticed was that there was only one bed.
   
Patrick didn't say anything, didn't seem to care, when he just threw his bag on the floor and started unbuttoning his shirt. I didn't mean to stare at him as his flannel shirt dropped to the floor and his belt landed on top of it.
   
"Can I help you with something?"
   
I blinked and shot my eyes back up. His blue-green eyes were quizzically gazing at me. I blushed and shook my head.
   
"Sorry, I... I just, um—"
   
He laughed and dug around in his backpack for a clean shirt to pull over his head. He kicked his pants off into the pile before jumping into the bed.
   
"So are you coming or what?"
   
"W-What?"
   
He rolled his eyes. "Bren, you're not sleeping on the floor. I'm very nicely telling you to get in bed so I can shut this obnoxious light off."
   
I got changed and hesitantly got into the other side of the bed. Patrick shut off the light, but there was still a small one plugged in in the corner of the room, so we could still see each other.
   
"Patrick?" I asked, staring up at the popcorn ceiling.
   
"Yeah?"
   
"Can I ask you something personal?"
   
"Sure."
   
"I mean, you know about my family—my parents specifically, so—"
   
"Dead."
   
"What?"
   
"My dad died when I was young. He was in the army. I don't remember much about him. My mom remarried. But I ki– she died a couple years ago."
   
He looked over at me, lips pursed in an awkward, forced smile.
   
"I'm sorry I brought it up," I tried, but Patrick shushed me.
   
"After my mom died, my step dad just lost it. He just started hating me— he even hated his son. I was the only part left of his precious wife, and that absolutely ripped him apart. He thought that I should've been the one to die in that car crash. I mean, I was driving, it was my fault she died. He never cared about me— just her. He was only nice to me to fool her. I wasn't his son. I was just this baggage that came to Minnesota with her. They met online. She didn't even know the guy before she took me from Chicago. I loved it here. I was absolutely pissed."
   
"But you got Pete out of it all. Isn't that worth it? He moved to Minnesota to stay with you."
   
Patrick laughed and raked his fingers back through his hair. "Don't get me wrong, I love that man to pieces. But growing up... it was so awful. Pete was the best thing to happen to me. He kept me sane through my teenage years with my new family, but I honestly think I would've found him again, even if he hadn't chased after me."
   
I scoffed. "That's awfully optimistic, Patrick."
   
"I have to be optimistic." He turned on his side to look at me properly, propping his elbow up on the pillow to drop his head in his hand. "Did I ever tell you that my step-dad's the reason I got arrested? He tried to frame me for some sort of fraud. I didn't even understand what I was in trouble for. When I found out he did that... fuck I've never been so angry. He told me that I needed punished for killing my mother."
   
He was quiet then, but I knew he wanted to continue.
   
"What... What happened to your mom, Patrick?" I asked. "I'm sorry, I'm just—"
   
"No, it's okay," Patrick interrupted. "Like I said, it was a car crash. I was picking her up from the grocery store. She sat in the passenger seat while I put everything in the back of the car. She had the window rolled down to yell at me about where to put the eggs and how to make sure stuff doesn't topple over, but of course I wasn't really listening to her. So I threw the plastic bags wherever and then just got in the driver's seat.
   
"Everything was fine. I was driving us home, and it wasn't that long after Pete proposed, so she was asking me about what we were planning for our wedding. But then I was being a distracted dumbass and wasn't really looking at the road, so I almost missed the turn. I had to jerk the wheel over last minute, and I guess the milk fell over and crushed the eggs. Oh my God, she lost her shit. She wasn't mad, she just loved complaining.
   
"I would swear up and down that I had the green light in that next intersection. I was going straight. I had the right of way. But maybe if I had been paying attention more I would've noticed the speeding car coming from the right. I could've stopped. But I didn't. I found out later the driver was drunk, but I knew it was my fault that the passenger side got t-boned.
   
"I woke up in a hospital bed, leg and arm in casts and Pete crying next to me. When I looked over at him he just looked so fucking scared.
   
"'Oh God, Patrick,' he said, 'I thought I was going to lose you.'
   
"I was confused, so when he slipped my engagement ring back on my finger I thought everything was okay. But then, when I looked back up at him, he just... I just knew. I couldn't even cry or anything. Everything just hurt so bad. I felt so fucking guilty. I just kind of laid there, and when he reached out to me I smacked him away.
   
"I asked him, 'How can you love me? I just killed my mother.'
   
"He said, 'Patrick this wasn't your fault. Someone hit you. She didn't... she died on impact. You couldn't have done anything.'
   
"'Then at least she died doing what she loved. Complaining.'
   
"Pete wasn't amused, but it made it easier for me to accept it.
   
"He took me home a couple days later, we went to my mom's funeral, and just tried to keep living like we were. But then my stepdad contacted me for the first time since the accident. He told me that everything was my fault, and that he was going to make me pay. I had to go visit him once a month to clean the house and cook and... do what my mom isn't here to do anymore. And if I missed a month he promised to hurt me. I only missed once in the two years that this has been happening, so he got me arrested."
   
"What... What did Pete say when you told him this?"
   
"Pete doesn't know," Patrick said. "And he isn't going to find out. I don't want him to worry. Or get hurt. I love him Brendon, I really do. I love him too much. I'd get hurt a thousand times over if it means he's okay."
   
"But wouldn't he say the same about you?"
   
"He would. That's why he can't know about this. I have to do this so my step-father doesn't hurt someone else I love."
   
That confused me, because Patrick was rather independent, and didn't hold a lot of people close. I raised my eyebrows and asked, "Like who?"
   
Patrick sighed. "Thanks for letting me ramble, but I think I want to be done now."