No way. What...what is Lieutenant Jacobs doing here?
"Sir...?" I breathe, my arms loosening so that I slide to the ground, but I'm happy to say that Seaton's arms are still wrapped slackly around me. My arms are trapped between our chests.
But I can't really think about that right now. Because Jacobs is in Seaton's apartment, and he could tell Seaton about my... drug dealing. In fact, he practically already has. I blink slowly as Jacobs raises an eyebrow.
"I know you're bent and all, but he's a minor, Sea," Jacobs says, his smile falling to a frown. Seaton's hands drop to his sides and he scowls.
"Shut the fuck up, idiot," Seaton snaps. "How do you know the brat?"
"Ha!" Jacobs laughs, "'The brat'? Sea, that's cold!"
"Tell me how you know Jayden," Seaton repeated. I just stand there, staring at the cop. I still have no idea what he's doing in Seaton's apartment.
"Picked him up at the end of Christmas break," Jacobs replies, shrugging, "Selling drugs in an Alley."
Seaton's eyes narrow and he looks at me. I flush, feeling sweat sprout from my pores suddenly. I duck my head nervously and avoid eye contact. Damn it. Thanks a lot, Mr. Rat. There should be something called Cop/Criminal Confidentiality. Fucker.
"You sold drugs, brat?" Seaton snarls and I wince. I knew he would hate me for it. Suddenly, he blinks and nods, "I get it. Your old man, again, eh?"
I stay silent. He already knows the answer.
"I let him off easy," Jacobs continues, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms, "I saw his name and it was that kid you wouldn't shut the fuck up about."
Seaton talks about me? My chest suddenly feels very warm and my face feels like a heating blanket's wrapped around it.
"Well, yeah, you heard what I told you, and now I guess the jig is up," Seaton says, sighing. Jacobs brow furrows.
"What're you talking about?" the police officer demands.
"I mean, I'm not going to sit back any longer and let – let this," He waves his hand at my bruised and ripped appearance. "happen anymore. I'll just have to go somewhere else."
"Man, do you know how hard it was for me to get you a new license and social security number!?" Jacobs asks loudly, getting angry. What in the world...?
What 'jig' is up? How did Jacobs know about...me? Did...Did Seaton tell him? No, he's a cop. Seaton swore he wouldn't tell the police. How do they know each other anyhow?
"Well, I'm sure you can get me another," Seaton sneers back at him, "Look – I don't care if my father finds me. I'm an adult. Jayden isn't. So go do your job and press charges against his fucker of a dad -"
What!? "No!"
Both adults look at me. I – I feel almost hurt. Seaton told a cop about what's been happening to me? He promised. It's not that bad, what Alfred's doing –but he knew – no! I don't know that! That isn't the point. I'm not going to allow this to happen. I'm not going to –to a trial. No fucking way. Never. They can't make me. Well, I suppose they could subpoena me but –stop it. It's not going to happen!
"You – no," I shake my head and step away, "I – you – him – I don't understand."
"Brat, it isn't important compared to what's happening to you, but Marlin and I used to work together," Seaton sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. Jacobs frowned deeply.
"Great, now you have to move," He scowls. "The DA is going to want you to testify against his dad as a witness and you'll have to tell them that you're the 'missing person' Seaton Black and then guess who's gonna find you, you fucktard!"
"Your insults get better each time I see you, Marlin," Seaton scowls.
My brain races with possibilities. Worked together? Meaning... Seaton was a cop before!? I blink. Well, that explains a lot. I suppose it makes sense. Certain things, like his amazing hearing, his 'no littering' moral code, when he said he'd 'had experience' in matters of abuse... but then, this whole time, an ex-cop has known about... Alfred.
"It doesn't really matter," Seaton shrugged, "My dad's a bastard, but the brat's dad is a criminal. I'm not going to let him get beat up anymore just because I don't feel like confronting 'daddy' about why I got fired and the fact I'm a fag. I'll deal with it."
Wait. Seaton's gay!? I didn't –no, no, no, Jayden! Don't fucking think that way! I can't think there's a remotely higher chance of him ever liking me. I'm not worth it. He deserves better and he could never feel that way. And wait a second –why is Seaton running from his dad? Damn it, this makes everything even more fucking confusing!
"Jayden, on the other hand, is 16-years-old, I won't fucking let those bastards do god knows what to him!" Seaton snarls and feel myself press in the ball behind my, the cool, hard surface pressing into my back.
"Jesus, don't make me out to be the bad guy here," Jacobs shouts angrily, "I'm the one who helped you find a place to move after you were canned from the police force for five counts of brutality! I put my job on the line for you Seaton!"
Seaton just glares for a while at the man, before shifting his gaze to me and then back to Jacobs and sighing, "You're right. And I apologize, Marlin. We'll talk about this more tomorrow, okay? Now...I've got deal with this..."
"Wait, Sea, you said 'bastards' as in plural," Jacobs says suddenly. Huh. I wonder if they even know I'm in the room still. I guess I do fade into the background pretty well. "I've only heard of the dad hurting him."
"Charlie Henderson," Seaton responds in a way that's almost sinister. Jacobs' eyes flash dangerously and he looks at me as though he's only just seeing me. I guess I'm not invisible after all. He takes in my appearance. The ripped shirt, the unzipped pants –and come to think of it why the hell haven't I zipped them up? I do so hastily, flushing.
"You mean..." Seaton nodded in response. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"No, he's here, isn't he, Jayden?" Seaton looks at me. I don't look into his eyes. I pale in embarrassment.
"How do you know Charlie?" I ask softly.
"I'm the one who arrested him five years ago," Jacobs replies and I feel like one of those cartoons that get an anvil dropped on them out of nowhere. "Did you know he went to jail, Jayden?"
What...? What the fuck? What's he acting all kind for all the sudden?
"Yes, sir," I reply.
"And did he tell you what for?"
"...No, sir." I tell him.
"He was molesting three kids at his Middle School," Jacob answers. I flatten my hands against the wall so I don't start to shake. No. No. Charlie wouldn't –Charlie loved me –no he didn't –he did, he said so –but he did try to rape me ten minutes ago –No. More kids? No. No. No. "Two boys and one little girl. Did you know that, Jayden?"
"Why're you telling me this?" I whisper.
"Because, I want you to know you're not alone," Jacob responds. I feel like my veins have suddenly turned to ice. I can't move or breathe.
"What!? No," I deny, my head finally snapping up to star at the cop. I see Seaton out of the corner of my eye. Deny, Deny, Deny. " What the –no. I'm not –"
"You're appearance says otherwise, brat," Seaton snaps at me, his tone cold.
"I –no," I rebuff.
"Marlin, leave," Seaton said, and his friend stiffens.
"You wanted me to help him, Seaton, so that's what I'm trying to do," the Lieutenant snaps at Seaton.
My heart begins to pound in my chest again and I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack. Is that even possibly at my age? I can't breathe. I feel like I'm about to faint, the world is tilting slightly to the right and can feel my hands quivering against the wall in paroxysms. What's happening to me? I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I'm going to die or –or go insane or –I can't breathe.
"....Hey, kid!" Jacobs suddenly calls out, but his voice is dim. I'm dying. I'm going to die. Oh god.
"Wha -? JAYDEN!" Seaton's voice is ringing in my ears, but my vision is so blurry I can only see his silhouette. I think he's kneeling in front of me.
I think I've caught their attention.
I try to speak –to tell them not to touch me. Not to worry. That if I'm going to die, then that's probably a good thing. That it doesn't matter. But I can't get any of that out, my mouth is dry; my tongue feels like sandpaper. Then I close my mouth, because I feel like I'm going to throw up. Damn it.
"Jayden, you've got to relax," Seaton says and I realize his hands are on both my shoulders. Jacobs is returning from –from I think the hallway or something with a blanket. When he touches me to wrap the covers around my shoulders, I notice his fingers are vibrating. Am I shaking that bad? What's happening to me? "You probably feel like you're going to die, but you're not. You're safe. You have to relax."
Relax? How can I do that? Have I ever done that? I'm never relaxed! Except, sometimes, when I'm with Seaton. But Charlie –he was there –and he tried –and then Jacobs said –like he knew –no. Deny it. He can't know. He can't know. Relax, yeah, I've just got to relax and trust Seaton. He says I'm not dying. Not dying.
I finally gulp for air, and it's the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. Slowly, I come to realize just how badly I am shivering. Where my breathing had been coming out in sharp gasps, it now starts to regulate itself in calmer, slower swallows. After a minute, I've finally come to, and I feel amazingly warm. The blanket helps.
I look up at Seaton, still wondering what the hell just happened to me. He nods knowingly –a promise to explain –and then wraps his arms around my tightly. For a second, I think he's hugging me, but he only did that to pick me up. A noise of surprise comes out of my mouth. I suppose you could call it a squeak, but don't go telling anyone I squeak like that. If you suddenly got picked up by Seaton, you'd squeak too, damn it.
I'm set down on the couch and Seaton sits next to me. I wrap the blanket around myself more firmly. It's a dark bluish green, like the ocean, and I wish it was the ocean, so that I could dive into it and swim away so I wouldn't have to answer whatever questions they're about to ask me. Cops. Seaton was a cop. A cop found out about –about Alfred.
"That was a panic attack, Jayden," Seaton says. His voice is soft. It doesn't sound like him. My eyes narrow. That's... not like Seaton.
"It's pretty common among abuse victims," Jacobs informs me, "Especially sexual abuse, kid –"
"Don't call me that," I tell him firmly. That's too close to Charlie's name for me. No one else can call me that. No one. I hate you. "And I wasn't –I wasn't sexually...abused."
"But he tried to," Jacobs suggests and I scowl.
"No, sir."
"Why is your shirt ripped, and why were your pants unzipped when you came here, then?" the cop inquired, taking a seat on the coffee table. Seaton scowls. Ever the neat freak.
"I was getting undressed when my dad came in," I reply smoothly and Jacobs emits a bark of laughter.
"You're a damn good liar, k-er –Jayden, right? Jayden."
"Leave, Marlin," Seaton orders. Jacobs begins to protest but Seaton shoots him a look. I don't know what that glance conveyed to Lieutenant Jacobs, but he was gone in under a minute. Perhaps Seaton is a Master Hypnotist as well as an artist and an ex-cop.
After a moment, Seaton looks back at me and says in that same annoyingly nice voice he used the moment before, "Listen, Jayden, I need to know what happened in that apartment and if Charles Henderson has ever hurt you in anyway –"
"Stop," I say. I get it now, I think, "You're... Don't talk to me like I'm the victim and you're the cop."
His eyes flicker in confusion.
"Don't... I'm not... you're not like that," I shake my head, "I'm not going to tell a cop anything."
He frowns and then I continue.
"But you... you I might be able to tell."
-
Charlie was...It started when I the six or seven –I'm not really sure which. My dad had been hitting me for...ever, pretty much. I remember once, when I was three or younger, I peed in the bed and I went into the bedroom to tell him about it. I woke him up and he was mad, and when I told him what I did he got even angrier. He picked me up by the collar of my shirt, carried me to my room and pushed my face into the yellow stain.
"Look at what you did, boy! You fucking idiot –how dare you!? I'll fucking make sure you never piss the bed again, you fucker!"
Compared to what he does now, what he did that night was nothing. A few slaps and a lot of cussing. But I was so young; I thought it was the worst thing that could ever happen. How fucking naive was I?
That was the first and last time I ever went into Alfred's room. I wet the bed again though –it wasn't something I could control because I was afraid of getting beaten. But I taught myself how to change the sheets, and I took them to the laundry room so Alfred would never know what had happened.
He'd had poker night since before I was born and I used to just stay in the living room while he played and do homework or watch television. I wasn't ever supposed to call him 'daddy' or 'dad' or even 'father'. It was 'sir'. In fact, I didn't even know that you were supposed to call your father 'dad' until I heard other kids in kindergarten call their parents that. I think then, yeah way back then, that's when I knew something was wrong.
I asked, once, why I was so different. Why dad hit me and almost never called me by my real name. I didn't go to school for two and a half weeks that time. Of course, that was also the last question I ever asked Alfred, too. I wasn't unintelligent, no matter what Alfred told me over and over again. I didn't do something over and over again and expect a different result. He always tells me it's punishment for killing my mum, who died in childbirth. So I guess that's the reason.
At daddy's poker game, Charlie always flashed a smile in my direction when he passed me. That was something I looked forward to. How pathetic is that? I anticipated that one smile, once a week that I might get if I happened to be looking up when he entered the doorway. One day, he even stopped to tell me his name. I was giddy for days. Stupid, right?
"Please, call me 'Charlie', Kiddo."
Anyways, yeah. When I was around six or seven, Alfred got me real good for –what was it? Breaking a plate or something? And Charlie came in the room and...offered to stay with me. That's it. Nothing...nothing like –
I'm getting ahead of myself.
It was months before he even kissed me. And he tried to leave –he did. He told me he couldn't control himself and I wanted him to stay so badly...So I told him it was okay. I –I didn't know. They hadn't taught me that in school yet. And later he started...touching and...yeah. Touching. And then he did things to me. And then I did them back.
I'm disgusting, I know. I fucking know, okay? And then when Alfred kicked me out during the poker nights–everything stopped for a while. A month or so –but then I started to take rides in his car. It's dark blue with a beige interior. Everything was back to normal...well, normal for me...for almost three years. I'd ride in his car. He'd...do things to me, or I to him and then...one day he was in a rush.
"Come on, Kiddo, get in the car. Hurry up, kay?"
He drove for a long time, an hour and a half or so until we were some place I'd never been before. There were trees everywhere and he drove through a path and to a place where I could vaguely see a lake in the distance. He told me to move to the back seat, so I did, and he promptly stripped me of all my clothes and started touching.
I was a little scared, because he usually asked or told me what to do but this time he was –he was just on top of me and touching everywhere. He pulled a tube of something from the armrest/compartment thing and began –with his fingers -inside – It hurt. I told him so but he told me this could be the last time he had with me. I asked him what that mean but he just told me he could be going away for awhile –heh, that was probably jail, huh?
"Wait –Charlie st-stop! No! Hey –th-that hurts! Charlie...wait!"
Then, all I remember is a lot of pain. I think I blacked out at some point. I was on my stomach and he was behind me and –pain. Just –just a lot of pain. I begged him to stop and I –I told him it hurt. I screamed in my mind. Or maybe out loud too. I couldn't really tell. Everything was so blurry and I –After that, he left the car for a while and I cried. I was bleeding and the only thing I had on was his coat.
...I didn't see him again after he drove me home that night.
I wonder if he ever got that bloodstain out of the back seat.
And then, he showed up just a few months ago. He just talked to me, y'know? Nothing bad. I think he was planning on it last night, but you saved me. Ha. You seem to be doing that a lot, don't you? You should probably stop. You're wasting your time.
Tonight...tonight he was really mad. I've never seen him like that before. He thought that...I was 'cheating' on him. He called me a slut and threw me in my room and started to –well, I think you get the picture. But I punched him and I somehow got away and ran here. I'm sorry. I just...I didn't know where else to go. You...you've been...
You.
You didn't hurt me. Or pretend to be nice. Or fuss over me. You were perfect, si-Seaton and...I'm grateful. But there –there's no way I'll testify. Against Alfred or Charlie.
I –I'd just lie, anyways.
Seaton.
Ha. I'm not sure if this is weird, but I really like saying your name.
-
He didn't talk at all. I'm not sure how much of that I really said out loud and how much I was just thinking as I spoke. Maybe I spoke all of it. That would suck. But I doubt it. It's only been about three minutes. He just listened. That blank expression, cool and controlled, not showing any emotion.
Almost black eyes burning into mine so intensely I think my eyes could soon be stained with that inky color. And then –
Pressed.
That's how everything ended up pressed.
My back, pressed against the couch.
My head, pressed against the wall.
Seaton's lips, pressed against mine.
What. The. Fuck!?
~~
Well, Jayden was definitely pressed.
What do you think about his neighbor now?
Did you expect them to end up like this?
Do you think it will last?
Hmm... I guess we'll have to see.