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When I didn’t move, just kept petting the dog, Bailey cleared her throat. “Well, shall we?” She made a sweeping motion toward the front porch.
I sighed and barely took my hat off before resettling it on my head. “Yeah. I guess.” But I just couldn’t make myself start walking.
Bailey groaned. “Dammit, Bucket,” she muttered, grabbing my arm. “Get your ass into gear already.” She marched forward, pretty much dragging me along with her. “They’re your parents. What do you think they’re going to do; stab you in the heart with a meat clever? Geez Louise.”
Up the porch she went, forcing me to trip along behind her. When we reached the front entrance, she raised her hand and knocked on the door before I could even catch my breath.
“Holy shit,” I gasped. She’d already knocked on the door. This was happening. This was really happening, right now, whether I was ready or not.
I don’t think I was ready. “Holy shit,” I said again, my breathing bursting out of control and my vision graying in and corners. “What if…what if—”
“Hey.” Bailey took my hand and squeezed my fingers, making me zip my attention to our clasped hands. I distinctly remembered her saying she didn’t want to hold my hand, so I looked up at her with confusion. But her gray eyes were nothing but steady and concerned when she quietly ordered, “Just breathe.”
I breathed, and my vision blinked back to full focus.
The front door opened, spreading light from inside out onto the porch. I let go of Bailey’s hand and blinked into the brightness until I made out my mother’s form.
My mom. She’d read me bedtime stories and cooked me chicken noodle soup when I’d been sick. I’d sat on her lap on Christmas Eve’s trying to stay awake late so I could get a look at Santa Claus and I’d had my knuckles swatted by her when I’d tried to steal turkey early on Thanksgiving. She’d raised me and clothed me and taught me and loved me. I just wanted to rush to her and hug her and let all the bad shit in my life melt away.
But I remained rooted where I stood, only managing a breathless, uncertain, “Hi.”
When she finally recognized me in the dark, her lashes fluttered rapidly and she pressed a hand to her mouth before whispering, “Beckett.”
I jammed my hands into the front pockets of my hoodie and shifted weight from one foot to the other. “They let me go. Someone—a witness—came forward with the truth, and they let me go.”
“That would be me,” Bailey spoke up, stepping forward and lifting her hand to wave at my mom. I glanced at her, a little surprised she was still here. As soon as I’d seen my mother’s worn, pale face, I’d forgotten everything else.
Mom sent her a perplexed glance, so Bailey quickly added, “I’m here to tell you undeniably without question that your son is completely innocent of everything he was charged with.”
After another second of gazing at Bailey, my mom said, “Do you really think I need a complete stranger to convince me my son isn’t a rapist?”
“I, um.” Bailey blushed madly and said, “No?” as if guessing before she turned to me with a sheepish wince.
Mom focused on me as well. “What’re you doing here, Beck?” she asked as if too weary to deal with me.
She looked as if she’d lost weight since the last time I’d seen her a few weeks ago, and gained a handful of wrinkles. Exhaustion had literally gouged out creasing into her pale skin. When I’d last called home the night I’d returned from a livestock judging contest for my fraternity to report the runner up place I’d won, Mom had told me how many problems she’d been having with her hands while she’d cutting hair. She feared she might be getting carpel tunnel. If that happened, she’d lose her job and there would be no money coming in at all.
Too many woes were piling onto her. And here I was, adding more weight onto her shoulders. I realized despite whether she wanted to support me or not, she might not be capable of emotionally weathering one more problem.
My hopes sank. “I…” Dammit, my voice was going hoarse. After a little cough, I tried again. “Can we come inside?” I asked.
She sighed as if she might give into temptation and allow me through the door, but then she drew herself up straight and shook her head. “No. No, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” Her hands began to shake and chin trembled, letting me know she didn’t want to turn me out, but then she explained, “Britt is home.”
“She is?” I sucked in a breath. “Is she…how is she?” If she was home, she had to be getting better, right? That was good news.
But my mother didn’t look optimistic. Her eyes glazed with tears as she glanced away. “We just got her back last week, and so far we’ve been able to keep this trouble you got yourself tangled in from her, but it’s been all over the news, Beck. She’s going to find out eventually, and we have no idea how she’s going to react. She’s in a very fragile state right now. Just hearing the word rape could…” She shuddered and shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, baby, but we can’t have you here right now.”
I felt punched in the chest by her words, but I nodded because, shit, “I understand,” I said. Britt needed them more than I did. Except fuck, I really needed my parents, too. What the hell was I supposed to do until…Until when? “So…you’ll just call when it’s safe to come home?” I asked.
She stared at me a full ten seconds, disappointment brightening her tired eyes, until she wiped a tear off her cheek. “Beckett, we told you to go back to school, focus on your studies and stay out of trouble. Why couldn’t you have just stayed out of trouble? That’s all we needed you to do.” She clenched her teeth, anger showing through her pain.
“But, I didn’t…” I shook my head, wanting to insist I hadn’t done anything wrong. I was innocent.
Except she hit me with the knockout blow. “Your father said you admitted to being with a girl who already had a boyfriend.” Suddenly, she didn’t appear so beaten and drained. The last tear to fall from her eye shimmered with outrage. She was pissed and unable to believe the son she’d raised to be a decent man could out so wrong and do something so awful.
Shame lanced me. I couldn’t believe my mother knew this about me. It was humiliating. Hanging my head, I admitted, “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”
“Which means you didn’t bother getting to know her at all before having sex with her? Is that right?”
