A Hotter Touch, A Better F... Than Any Girl You'll Ever Meet

Chapter 19

Brendon's 'You're such a girl!'

My father's 'You're a fucking pansy ass girl!'

Followed by, 'I have a fairy for a son.'

'Why the hell must I have four daughters when all I wanted was a son?'

'Fucking faggot!'

'God is punishing me.'

'You wrecked your family!'

'Disappointment!'

'Mistake!'

'Failure!'

The memories of those words wrecked through me, tearing me apart and I was gasping for air, fighting to hold back my tears as the next series of memories followed.

A punch against my face.

And another.

And another.

A knee in my stomach, kicking me a few feet away before I fell to the ground, unable to breathe.

A foot stepping down on my crotch, twisting. 'Not like you're ever going to need that anyway.'

"Ryan, ssh, calm down," someone said.

I opened my eyes to meet Brendon's. I shrank back in fear; barely remembering anything about him except for the fact that he'd once hit me and it had hurt like hell.

He reached out a hand and placed it reassuringly on my knee.

I jumped and started to shake. "Please don't touch me, I'm feeling too warm," I muttered, trying to keep my voice as soft and calm as I in any way could while really wanting to scream it in his face. As to the excuse, well, he wouldn't buy it, but that was all he was getting for then.

Suddenly the bus lurched to a halt and I looked out the window and saw the venue.

I didn't think twice but simply shot off the couch, running to the door and out as soon as I managed to get it open. Then I simply ran and ran, hoping that if I ran fast enough the memories might be erased and at least Brendon wouldn't be able to catch me.

As we've already established, my physical condition wasn't the best ever and I fell to the ground, panting, less than two blocks down, tears rolling down my cheeks as I could feel all the beatings again, verbal and mental. They were tearing through my soul and rendering me incapable of hiding exactly how broken I still was.

******

Spencer found me.

And I found myself reaching out my arms for him, an abused child all over again.

But this was Spencer.

Spencer always knew.

Spencer always understood.

He tucked me into his arms and started carrying me back towards the buses and the venue… and Brendon.

"What's wrong?" he muttered, looking searchingly at me.

I looked up from the nest I'd made for my head out of his shirt. "He called me a girl," I simply muttered before going back into hiding.

He sighed. "How about you go stay with Matt for a moment? I'll go talk to Brendon."

I nodded against his chest. "Matt doesn't think I'm a girl, does he?"

"Of course I don't," I heard the other guitarist reassure me as I was tucked into his arms instead of Spencer's.