Husbands But Not

20: Bruised

Kent

"I'm okay." I said quickly. I knew Noah was gonna panic in reaction to my pain. I wasn't okay but I didn't care that I wasn't okay. Who ever is really okay, anyway?

"Define okay." He asked like the protective husband he was. Honestly, I was feeling too numb to care about anything.

His dads were trailing behind him looking sharply dressed. Dad could never look like a decent human being. He always gave off the impression of a drunk pig under the influence of too many drugs to count. Which he was.

"I'll tell you later." I said as I tried to get up. He helped me lift my weight, which wasn't much really. I couldn't remember the last time I had a proper meal.

He slid his arm under my shoulder to lift me. "Come on, let me help you up."

I obliged and struggled to stand tall, but eventually I managed it with minimal pain. Noah's dads had reached us by then.

"You must be Kent." one of his dads said. "I'm Isaac, but you can call me Zac."

"And I'm Evan, but you can call me Evan." his other dad giggled. "I don't have a nickname because my husband is lame." Noah seemed very embarrassed by them. Most parents are awkward anyway.

"Kent, I'm terribly sorry you had to meet my parents." he apologised. They looked really young to father a 17 year old. As a matter of fact, they didn't look above the age of 30. Weird.

"Do you guys wanna stay here, or leave with us?" his dad asked. Noah looked at me for an answer. I didn't mind anything because I felt safe with Noah.

"It's getting crowded now with the boat race ending. Let's go home." The word home struck me sickly. I had a house, yes, but it definitely doesn't feel like home.

"Evan, take the kids home. I'll run a couple of errands and meet you there." They shared a knowing look before parting ways.

We climbed in the car, both Noah and I sitting in the back seat, despite the passenger one being empty. The interior felt colder than the outside.

A shiver went down my spine with the thud of the car door closing. Then suddenly, Noah took off his jacket as if it was heavier than the car. He placed it softly around my frame and smiled. Then I noticed that this was the jacket he gave me and I returned. Only there wasn't a note in the pocket anymore and it smelled more like him.

"He's been wearing it since yesterday so I'm terribly sorry for my kid's hygiene." His dad said as he drove past the park and onto the street.

"Dad!" Noah whined.

I hugged the jacket closer to me. "It's perfect as it is." I wished I had said those words earlier, because the way Noah's eyes gleamed after I said it made me warmer than any heater would.

"Cheesy buttknuckles." his dad muttered. I did not know what it meant, and from the looks of it, nor did Noah.

It didn't take us long to get to his house, and it took even less for us to be in his room and cross legged on his bed opposing each other like 8 year old boys who were about to play a wild game of Uno™.

"Is your face okay? Any pain in it?" Noah asked boldly. I wasn't taken aback by it, but usually people did not ask about pain the way Noah did.

"My face is intact. He knew what he was doing." Dad never made it visible in regular situations that he did anything to me.

"So I can...?" he asked cautiously as his hand neared my face. He combed through my hair, lifting most stray locks away from my face. His hand lingered there a little longer than it would've taken to do so.

Under normal circumstances, and had it been someone else, I would've swatted the hand away. Noah had privileges.

"Will you tell me what happened?" he was full of questions today, and it was only fair to give him a few answers.

I was starting to feel numb in the legs, so I lay down with my head by Noah's crossed legs, my body along the mattress, and my feet dangling off the bed.
"Dad caught me at home and beat the shit out of me." I blurted it out. I honestly couldn't fathom whatever was happening to him. He had always been a violent person, but recently he has been much worse.

I continued the story, keeping out as much details as I could. Let's face it, why should I bring more pain into words. Better hurt my body than hurt my mind. Noah's hand started brushing my hair softly. It was getting lengthier purely because I lacked money and mental energy to get it cut. "So now instead of hiding under my bed, I can sleep on it. But there's a catch: I could get a beating at random. It's fucked up."

"It very much is. What the hell is wrong with your father." I could feel Noah's body urging to get up, but he kept himself in place. "We should tell someone to do something. The cops or someone who can stop him."

That got me bolting right up. "Please, no." I begged. Fear consumed my stomach just thinking about dad finding out I tried to sack him. "This would be a really bad idea and I'd appreciate it if you don't mention it again."

He seemed to understand my concerns, thankfully. I didn't return to my position as the whole mood had changed. I hugged Noah's jacket tighter to my body as I paced his bedroom, suddenly remembering how I slipped in the bathroom and destroyed the plastic bottles.

"You really like that jacket, don't you?"

I nodded. "I do."

"I don't understand," he leaned back against the headboard of the bed. "What's so special about it?"

I thought about whether I should speak and embarrass myself even more or refrain from answering and come off as a shallow person.

I decided to go with the former. "It was the first time anyone gives me something personal. Something that belongs to them and choose to give it away for my sake." I stood by the edge of the bed and contemplated his boyish figure. "I don't know what you think of it, Noah Grayson, but I like my firsts to be special. And this jacket? Is the stupidest special first that I absolutely love."

He extended his arms outwards. I pushed through the pain and went in for a lengthy hug. "Who says we can't hug like teenage girls?" he spoke behind my ear.

I expected him to break the hug any second, but it never happened. Then suddenly I realised, with the change of his heart and breathing rhythms, Noah was the one crying.

A/N: We hit 30k reads and the story isn't even done yet. I'm, so, shook. Thank you so much for the tremendous support you're giving me and the story. Also thanks for 5k followers.

Feel free to read any of my other finsihed books as you wait for the next chapter. I promise you'll love them.

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