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“Mother, you need to leave, both of you do,” Easton said, sounding exhausted.
“Not with this manipulating bitch,” she snapped. “Get her out of here, she’s taking advantage of you, and she only wants you for your money.”
“Where’s Vincent?” I asked, feeling like he could control the situation.
“I don’t know. He wasn’t here when they woke us up,” he said, weaving a hand through my hair, looking at me like I was his. “Did they hurt you, what happened?”
“Get her out of here, now,” Mrs. Mercer yelled.
The room erupted in arguing and I wanted to shield Easton from the ugliness of his family.
“Excuse me, what the hell is going on?” The nurse came in looking furious.
She was a different nurse than the one we had last night.
“She needs to leave,” his mother said, pointing at me.
I glanced back to see his dad staring at me, waiting for my next move.
“What the fuck is going on?” Vincent's voice was loud.
“Only family,” the nurse said. “Everyone else out before I call security.”
“They need to leave,” Mr. Mercer pointed at Vincent and me.
“No, they need to leave,” Easton countered back.
“He’s just been in a homophobic attack, he’s not thinking right,” Mrs. Mercer cried out.
I turned around to look at her wondering how the hell she knew it was a homophobic attack. As far as I knew neither one of us had spoken to the police, so there was no way she knew of the homophobic slurs they had said.
“How did you know it was a homophobic attack?” I quickly glared at her suspiciously.
“Well…what else?—”
“People get attacked for all sorts of things,” I countered.
I looked over at Vincent and I hoped to hell he caught my suspicion.
He nodded at me slightly.
“Please get security,” he said to the nurse.
“These things?—”
“Quiet!” Easton’s dad yelled at her.
The look they gave each other made my skin crawl and I knew they were behind the attack.
“Get out,” Easton said, but he sounded smaller, less confident.
Glancing behind me he looked dejected, more than likely coming to the same conclusion I did. I grabbed his hand, hating that they were doing this to him, that he’d been reduced to being rejected over and over again.
“Listen, you’ve had your fun?—”
“Oh, shut up,” Vincent growled, silencing Easton’s father, as he walked to us. “I went to get your pain meds, please take them.”
He gave me a bag with juice, leaning over to kiss Easton on the forehead and then me.
