Counting My Lucky Stars [BoyxBoy]

★★E I G H T★★

Chapter Ocho

I woke up lying on a soft bed. Moving a little to get more comfortable, I heard an intake of breath and a loud groan. This confused me. Beds don’t make noises. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and looked up to see a familiar face. Angel’s face was scrunched up, red and his jaw was set tight. “Are you alright?” I asked lightly, confused.

“Considering that you kicked me in the balls while I was asleep pretty damn hard, yeah, perfectly peachy,” he gasped out. My eyes bulged and I moved away from him.

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to. Are you balls okay?” I asked. He nodded and turned to his side, holding his groin.

It seemed to take hours for him to reply. “I’m fine, they’re fine, don’t worry,” he said to me and I nodded a little.

“Want me to get some ice for it?” I asked lightly and he shook his head.

Silence again.

Once he finally looked at me, feeling better, he sat up. “Are you alright?” he asked me lightly. I looked at him for a moment and blinked before looking down at the bed.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“The police came and got him.”

“Why was he out?”

“They said he was never in custody that he skipped his trial and ran away; but he’s in prison now. I believe it’s ten to thirty years of imprisonment,” he said to me

I was silent this time. Looked at the designs the threading made in the comforter for something to do. “Where’s my mom?” I asked.

“She took Cyndy back home.”

“Why didn’t she save me?” my voice was barely over a whisper.

He pulled me closer and sighed. “She went next door to the Tuner’s to call the police and have them take care of Cindy,” he told me.

I nodded and rested my head on Angel’s chest. “That was your dad, right?” he asked.

Looking up at him, I noticed that his face held concern, sadness and pity. I shook my head and he looked a little confused. “He’s not my father. Technically yes he is, but to me, he’s a sick bastard that deserves to rot in hell,” I whispered, curling closer to him.

He nodded in what seemed like agreement. “So when you told me not to call you Jason, is that why, because your father…?” he trailed off in his sentence. I wanted to see if he would finish it, but he never did.

“What? Touch me? Yes, but that’s as far as he’s tried to go. My mommy walked in on him doing it,” I could feel the dreaded tears pricking at my eyes, but I held them back, cursing myself. That ended three years ago, Jay. It’s time to forget about it, a voice whispered in the back of my head.

And it just happened again, a different voice hissed back.

I looked up at Angel and he was looking down, face red. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. I saw a small droplet seep through his white jeans, making the small spot grey. I reached out to him and lifted his chin to see the tears slowly sliding down his cheeks. His eyes were red and his cheeks matched my shirt, red as well.

Giving him a reassuring smile, I wiped his tears from his cheeks. “Don’t worry, I’m over it, really. I went to counseling and everything for two and a half years,” I give him a small shrug. His crying confuses me. I understand that he was sad for me; it’s a bad thing to get molested, but even worse to get touched by your own father, who you thought you could trust.  “And you shouldn’t cry for me,” I said.