Before You Leave

22. The Fire

The next day, Gideon and I were sitting on my bed. He was laying down and I was cross crossed. He said he had a surprise for me.

"I hate surprises. I think the truth is much more efficient."

He laughed. "You are like the queen of lying. I can never tell with you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Yes, you can. Gid, anytime something is wrong and I lie to you about it, you always know." I look down at him, narrowing my hazel eyes. "How?"

He brushed some of my hair behind my ear gently and slowly. "I guess I just know you," is all he says.

I laugh a little. "But even when you barely knew me, you knew I was lying."

"Fine. You have a tell," he admits.

"I do not have a tell," I say, thinking back to all the times I lied to dad about where I snuck off to at night. I was never caught by him.

"Your hair," he says, musing it as he speaks about it. "You always play with it when you lie. You do it when you're almost absent minded." He continues to stroke my hair.

"You're also absent minded when you play with mine," I point out. "You're doing it now."

"Yeah, but I always have a different reason."

"And what is your reason, Gideon?" I ask, leaning down and bracing both of my hands on either side of his waist, my face near his, our noses touching.

His other hand reached up to cup my cheek as he breathed, "To distract you." And he kissed me softly, making my insides go weak. I lowered my body down onto his, planting my knees on either side of him, like my hands.

I could feel my hair part to the side uncomfortably as I kissed him deeper, one of my hands unintentionally finding its way up his midnight blue shirt, my fingertips at his back and my palm on his waist.

The tips of my fingers brushed something dry and scarred, making Gideon gasp a bit and pull back, squirming a little under me. I brushed it again, our lips disconnected.

"Stop—"

"Gideon, are you burnt?" I gasped, sitting up on my bed, making me bounce a little.

He blushed a bit, saying nothing as he sat up, too, his legs thrown on the side of the bed.

"Let me see—"

He shook his head.

I put a hand on his neck, my thumb lightly touching his cheek. "Gid, let me see," I said, more softly than the last time I asked.

"I don't want you to think different of me," he says quietly.

"Gid, nothing is going to change the way I feel about you," I say, standing as I kept my hand on his neck. I stood in between his legs and his hands stayed a little above my hips.

"No one knows about them. Except for my mother." He swallowed a bit as he took my free hand. "My father wasn't a good guy," he begins. "He was fine when I was younger. But when I turned twelve, he wasn't the same. He started drinking after his brother died. And when he did, he got angry." My Gideon's eyes looked a little clouded. He was inanimate as he talked. Until he got to the important part. Then, he spoke with much emotion. "It started off with small things," his voice was breaking on a few words, "like breaking glasses when I didn't do what he asked. Or shouting at me when I messed up." I could hear his gulp as I squeezed his hand. "But then he got more and more violent. He hit me a few times, but it didn't do much. I'd still be defiant."

"And then what?" I whispered, my eyes filling with tears of fear for the young version of my boyfriend before me.

I could see tears go down his face, even as he looked down at his lap. "Then he found his favorite way. Holding me over a fire or threatening me with a lighter." His throat sounded hoarse. I couldn't help but gasp, but it sounded kind of like a strangled sob. "And once," he whispered, "he threw me in."

I let my chin rest on his head, sobbing for him.

"It was just for a few seconds." I can hear his sniffs. "It was only enough to hurt my back. My mother stopped the fire before it could go anywhere else. It's why she left him."

"Oh, Gideon," I sigh, kissing both of his temples slowly, one at a time. "I'm so, so sorry."

His hand guided mine to his back, under his blue shirt. I stepped away from his center and sat back on the bed, but on the other side of him as earlier. I lifted up his shirt slowly, squeezing his as he did it with me.

His burns were about the size of a plate. I covered my mouth with my opposite hand, but with the other, I touched the wound softly.

He tensed a bit, and just as I pulled my hand away, afraid I had hurt him, he guided it back to him slowly.

"It's okay," he assured me, his voice cracking a bit. "I'm not used to being touched so fragilely," he admitted sheepishly.

I was careful not to hurt him as I traced the space of his burn slowly, kissing his cheek once. "I don't care about your scars, Gideon." I let my chin rest on his shoulder. "You're still you and you are beautiful," I breathed.

"Thank you," he says hoarsely, looking up at me. His eyes looked so blue after he's been crying. He wipes his eyes quickly.

I catch his chin softly. "You don't have to wipe them away. It's okay for you to cry, Gideon. Everyone cries."

He smiled up at me and I looked down at him strangely.

"What?"

"You're just really amazing, JJ," he whispers.

I grin. "I know." I kiss his mouth once as a peck. "So are you."

"Why do you think people would treat you different if they knew about it?" I ask. "There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"People would ask to see. And I'm not a circus freak to be stared at." He shakes his head. "They would ask questions and I would end up crying like I already have. I mean, isn't that why you don't talk about BH?"

"I suppose so," I agree.

"I had a dream about him, you know?" I sigh, standing up and putting my hands in front of me. He stood up with me, immediately getting the message as he took my hands in his.

"Are you okay?" He whispers, visibly concerned.

I laughed a little. "I'm fine. It was a good dream.

I took one of my hands away from his and brush a piece of his black hair out of his beautiful eyes. "You were there," I continued.

"Did he talk to me?"

"We more like talked about you right in front of your face," I admitted.

"Oh, you called me a kiss butt, didn't you?" He groans d

I snorted. "Innocent Gideon Andrews." I smiled. "Kiss ass Andrews, you need to loosen up."

He chuckled and bent to kiss my forehead. "If I loosen up any more than I already have, I'm afraid I'd end up like you."

"Oh, fuck off," I said, but I kissed him anyway.