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“What happened?” Tristan asked, head cocked.
Steven shook his head, looked out the window. “What didn’t happen?” He took a rattling breath before releasing it in a cough, covering it with his elbow. “My father was… he was a monster. And I don’t say that as an expression. He was a literal monster. He abused my mom and my sister until she woke up in the middle of the night and ran off. She took Hazel with her, but she left me.”
My jaw dropped open. Tristan put a hand over his mouth.
“I haven’t talked to her since. I know she did it because she felt like she couldn’t raise two kids on her own. I was older by seven years. But… well, she left me with him. He would treat me like an animal, but it got even worse when he found out I was gay. That’s when he’d lock me in a closet for days at a time. When I outgrew the closet, he would lock me up in the spare room. All I’d have was a fish tank to keep me company. I got so thirsty once I had to drink out of it.” Steven had soundless tears sliding down his face. My heart broke for him. How could anyone treat their own flesh and blood like that?
Steven was right. His father was a literal monster.
“Jesus… fuck.” Colton reached over and grabbed Steven’s wrist. “I’m so sorry.”
Steven tried to muster a smile, but it was a shaky one.
“Do you know where your sister and mom are now?” Colton asked.
“Nope. No idea. I tried finding them. Even hired a PI to do some digging, but they couldn’t find anything. And that’s okay. I made it through without them. I can keep on making it through.”
“Damn right,” I said. “No one should go through what you’ve been through, Steven, but just from knowing you these past few weeks, I can see that you fought your way out of that situation and kept your sanity. That’s extremely difficult to do.”
He nodded, and the ghost of a smile flickered onto his face. “I have my moments.”
“We all do,” Tristan said.
The conversation slowed down as we all digested the bomb that Steven had dropped. Exhaustion hung heavy in the air as the day started catching up to us. A lot had happened, and it would all need unpacking, but not tonight. Things were still too fresh. Too raw.
Tristan gave a stretch and a yawn, which seemed to jump around the rest of the group in rapid succession. Eric pushed his chair back when he finished with his stretch.
“Alright, you guys, I think it’s time for us to head home.”
Eric jingled the keys in his pocket and stood up. Tristan and I stood to meet them at eye level. Eric wrapped his best friend into a tight hug, joined by Colton. When they separated, I could see that both Eric’s and Tristan’s eyes were glistening.
“I love you, Trist. If you need anything, give us a call.”
“Thanks, Eric. I’ll send up the bear signal if we need anything.”
Eric winked and reached for Colton’s hand. They were gone moments later, leaving just me, Tristan, and Steven as the last men standing.
Tristan sat on the bed, his back against the headboard, his legs crossed underneath him. I didn’t want to be rude, but it was getting late, and I was ready for it to just be Tristan and me, but instead of getting up to leave, Steven moved over to the love seat and appeared to make himself more comfortable. He threw a blanket over himself and smiled at us, his gaze lingering on me before jumping to Tristan.
“Do you guys want to play a game?” He looked over at the deck of cards on the table. “I’m still buzzing. All this adrenaline tonight has me thinking I won’t be sleeping.”
Tristan shot me a subtle glance before offering a strained smile. “I don’t think I’m up for another round.”
Please get the hint. Please get the hint.
“That’s fine,” he said, moving the blanket off himself and going to stand.
Oh, thank God.
He got up, but instead of going for his shoes by the door, he went to the bathroom. Tristan mouthed the words “I’m sorry” to me, likely sensing the growing exhaustion.
“It’s fine,” I mouthed back. I really didn’t mind. After how he’d opened up to us earlier, I was fine with him staying a little longer to decompress. Steven was in the bathroom for less than a minute before he came back out, scratching his nose on the way to the love seat, passing his dirty sneakers without a second glance.
“What time is it?” I asked, as if I didn’t already know it was eleven forty-five at night.
“Eleven forty-five,” Steven cheerily answered after checking his watch.
“Are you normally a night owl?” Tristan asked.
