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Scottie’s mumbling from the night before echoed in my head, and I found it hard to breathe. David. That scumbag. He’d hurt Scottie.
“Just tell me one thing, Jay.” I curled my hands into fists. “The bruises on Scottie’s body are not from you, are they? His ex did it.”
For a second, Jay looked like he was going to deny it, but then he sighed and released the door. “We need to talk. Come in.”
The realization I was right about what had happened overshadowed the significance of Jay letting me inside his house. I followed him into a kitchen, which, other than a few cups in the sink, was clean and smelled of Pine-Sol.
“You want coffee?” he asked.
“Sure. Thanks.”
I swallowed back the lump in my throat. For the moment, things felt normal between us, but I knew better than to believe this truce was anything more than temporary, for Scottie’s sake.
Jay poured me a cup of coffee, then settled across from me at the island with his cup.
“Thanks.”
He shrugged. “How much do you know about Scottie and David?”
“He never went into details, but I know the fucker used to hit Scottie.”
“I should’ve realized sooner and got him out of there, but Scottie was caught up in David, who was older and so much more sophisticated. His parents didn’t give a damn about him, and he lapped up every scrap of attention David gave him and thought it was love.”
“What happened?”
“Even I don’t know the full extent of it, but I gather Scottie has been downplaying how much David abused him. He likes to be positive and believe the best of people, including his abuser. He reduced everything to just a little slap, but the truth is, when he left David, he had fractured ribs and a concussion.”
“Son of a bitch.” Scottie was so tiny. How could anyone lay hands on him? I’d seen David. He might be shorter than me, but to Scottie’s delicate frame, his fists would be like iron.
“Lately, he’s been bothering Scott again,” Jay said. “We ran into him at the store, which affected Scott so much he ran away to hide. Scott’s afraid of him.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“You know why.” He shot a pointed look at my hands. “I didn’t agree with him keeping it a secret, but I understood why he felt he needed to.”
“What happened the day before yesterday? He ran into David?”
“Not really.” He took a gulp of his coffee. “This is partly my fault. I made some nasty comments when Scott and I fought. Comments about him cheating on David by writing you all those letters. I didn’t expect him to take it to heart the way he did. He made contact with David to apologize.”
“He did what?” What the hell had Scottie been thinking? That fucking abuser didn’t need his apology. If he wasn’t such a rotten fucking bastard, Scottie wouldn’t have had to invent a whole new persona to come out of his shell. He should have been that safe space for Scottie to thrive instead of reducing him to a punching bag. Some of Scottie’s letters might have been racy, but he’d never made them about us. They were all general, written by a lonely boy desperate for attention.
“In Scott’s defense, he did all the right things,” Jay said. “David wanted to meet at his house, but Scott met him in public—at the mall. He never expected David to follow him to the parking garage and assault him there.”
I lurched to my feet, the room spinning around me. Although I’d suspected, hearing Jay confirm it built up a rage inside me that needed an outlet. I slammed my fists on the counter. “Where can I find him?”
“You need to stay calm.” Jay held up his hand. “Can’t you see you’re reacting the way Scottie thought you would? This is why he wouldn’t tell you the truth.”
“Fuck that. He touched Scottie. I’m going to break his fucking neck.”
“No, you won’t!” Jay grabbed my arm and refused to let go. “It’s not easy, I know. I wanted to hurt him too, but Scottie’s handling it. He filed a restraining order against David.”
“It’s not enough. I need to hurt that son of a bitch.”
“To what end? If you violate your parole and get thrown back into prison, how will that help Scottie? You think he won’t feel worse than he does now? Let the law handle it.”
“Where does he live?” I asked.
“What are you going to do?”
