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My face hits the concrete as they drop me onto the ground. There are so many hands on me that I can barely budge. It dawns on me in this moment that they could kill me. Briar would be left alone with them if that happened.
Roaring like an animal, I fight to get up, thrashing and shouting when someone kicks me hard in the ribs. The air is knocked out of me, and I nearly vomit on the cold ground.
“You piece of shit!” Sean shouts, just before another kick explodes against my side. I feel my ribs crack from the toe of his shoe, and pain pulses through me. “You don’t think we see the way you stare in the locker room? Now you want to touch my girl? You fucking pervert. You freak!”
In the distance, Briar screams again.
Fighting against their arms and my broken ribs, I struggle to get away. I need to get to her, but it’s useless. They’re too strong, and there are too many of them.
“Break his fucking hand. He doesn’t deserve to be on our team anymore,” Sean mutters.
I try to fight some more, but everything happens so fast.
With my cheek pressed against the cold cement, I’m staring down my outstretched arm as someone’s heel lands so hard on my knuckles that I feel the bones shattering.
My vision cuts to black for a brief moment before another shoe stomps on my fingers. The pain is no longer something I feel, but it becomes something Iam.I am made of pain. Excruciating, sharp, white agony seeps into my bones like it’s changing the very structure of my conscience.
I’m screaming, but I can’t hear anything anymore. Again, everything goes black, but I wake up too quickly.
This time, the shoe lands against my forearm and the crack of the bone forces my stomach to heave and tears to sting my eyes. I can’t scream or breathe. They stomp and howl like animals in a slaughterhouse.
There are sirens in the distance, and the hands holding me down release my body so I can finally suck in air again, but it’s too late. I am broken and shattered into a million pieces.
With my face still pressed to the ground, I watch the feet of the scattering partygoers as they run. Shrieks and screams fill the night air as I lie in pain, waiting for my mind to allow me to pass out again.
Then, the face of an angel fills my vision, and I stare through the tears in my eyes as Briar lies on the ground in front of me.
“Oh my god, what did they do to you?” she cries.
“Did they hurt you?” I mutter, although my voice is broken; nothing but a wheezing whisper scrapes its way out of my throat.
“Me? Caleb, look at you. Oh my god, your arm!”
I try to pull my arm to me so she doesn’t have to see the grotesqueness of it, but the slightest movement has me wanting to vomit again, so I hold still and wish for mercy.
“This is all my fault. Caleb, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry,” she sobs.
I feel her face pressed softly to my side, and I don’t bother telling her how badly my ribs ache. Just to feel her close to me is enough. I wish I could reach for her or touch her, but I can’t. She just keeps repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Moments before the police arrive with the ambulance, she stares into my eyes as I softly murmur, “I’m not.”
Present Day
Sitting at my desk at work, I flex my right hand, staring at the old scars and feeling that phantom ache that comes and goes now, and I can’t help but think about how far Briar and I have come.
This gets me thinking about Dean and how amazing the other night was. I had sex with a man, and I don’t feel one bit different. But I looked into his eyes and realized how much I care about him, and now I hardly recognize myself.
Dean is so much braver than me. He’s unapologetic, and he doesn’t dull his own shine for the sake of others. I love that about him, and for the first time in my life, I feel inspired to do the same.
But he’s not invincible, and I worry about him the same way I worried about Isaac. Dean needs me, and it feels so good to be needed. He won’t ask for help because I know how vulnerable he feels when he does that, but I can be there for him even when he doesn’t ask.
I had to fight for Briar, and I did. I nearly died showing my love for her. But when did I stop?
If I allow another man into our relationship, does that mean I’ve stopped fighting for her? Or does it mean I still am?
I’ve never met a poly family in my life. No one in our community would approve. My father would have disowned me if he hadn’t already burned the bridge between us. My mother would struggle, for sure.
Our community. Briar’s family. My career. There is so much at stake, and for what? Because Briar and I found another person we love? Someone who’s good for us. Someone who is already a member of our family.
