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Fresh tears fell at the mention of his name. “His father, I’ll fucking kill him.” He clenched his jaw, squeezing Seb’s hands in his.
“Whose father? Joe, help me get him upstairs. We need to get him washed and changed before we take him anywhere.”
Hayden jumped to his feet. “No, we need to go now. I can’t leave him there alone.”
“No, Hayden,” Joe said, a look of fierce determination on his face. “You’ll do it now. Do you think Ashok will want to see you looking like that? Just five minutes, that’s all it will take, and then we’ll go.”
He climbed the stairs, closely followed by Seb, and walked into the bathroom, stripping off as he went. He looked in the mirror, horrified at the sight. No wonder Joe had insisted. He washed hurriedly and put on the shirt Seb handed him.
“Now, you look at least part-way respectable. I’ll call Dom on the way and get him to meet us there.”
Hayden had no words, following Seb and Joe out of the house and to the car. He sat in the back, gazing out of the window, watching everyone go about their business as if nothing was wrong. He supposed for many it was just another night. Mothers putting children to bed, fathers doing the same. That’s what parents did, wasn’t it? Look after their children. Not beat them to within an inch of their life.
He didn’t even notice they’d arrived at the hospital, not until Joe opened the door to let him out.
“Come on, mate. Let’s get you inside.”
Sitting in the waiting room brought back many memories for them all. Memories of waiting to hear about Seb and whether he’d come out of the coma he was in. Joe had been beside himself, as had he and Dom. Thankfully, that had all worked out, and he hoped to God they would have the same outcome this time.
He let Joe do the talking, only speaking up to tell them Ashok’s full name. He couldn’t remember telling the paramedics, but he must have done. They were told to sit down and a doctor would come and see them shortly.
He felt numb inside. Nothing anyone said registered. He sat in a daze, everything around him muted: voices, sounds, colours. He heard Joe and Seb talking and was vaguely aware when Dom and Jacob arrived, giving him pats and condolences. It all meant nothing. Time was irrelevant. Everything was worthless.
Until the doctor came through the door telling him Ash was going to make it, nothing mattered to him at all.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ashok
“Hello,son.”
The words filled Ashok with dread. How the fuck had he found him?
“Thought you could leave without saying goodbye? No one does that, son. No one leaves me. Your mother found that out the hard way. If only you’d have stayed. This could all have turned out very differently, but you had to just up and leave.”
Ashok backed into the house and into the kitchen. If he could reach a pan or a knife, perhaps he could fend him off. He’d never done it before, but the crazed look in his father’s eyes left him in no doubt about what he had planned. He’d beaten him before, smacked him around, but this time, he knew things were different.
His father stalked towards him, removing his belt.
“You’ll pay for that, son.”
“Please, Dad.” Ashok rarely called him that. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time, usually referring to him as father or the bastard that sired him, never Dad. “How did you find me?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know? But I found out where you work and I’ve been watching for a few days now, waiting for just the right time. Your mum wants you home, and I’m going to take you. You belong with us, Ashok, not all the way up here with people that don’t care about you. Only we can love you like you deserve. Only family can do that.”
Ashok shook his head. “You’re wrong. You never cared for me. I was never good enough for you. I was always the one you hated, the one that didn’t fit in.” He’d never had the courage to speak out to him before, but being out of his clutches, living here with Hayden, independent, had taught him he needed to stick up for himself.
“Don’t argue with me, boy. You do not answer me back. No one answers me back, certainly not someone like you.” His father sneered as he spoke. “I mean, just look at you. I know all about you. The boys, the long hair, the lace.” He spat the last word, and Ashok wondered again how he’d found out. No doubt his brother had told him. He knew better than to think he’d keep that information to himself.
“You’re a puff, a faggot, a pansy, fairy.” His father spat on the floor in front of him. “You’re no better than shit on the floor, and now I’m here to teach you a lesson.”
Ashok tried to run, but his father grabbed his hair, yanking him backwards. Ashok winced with pain as he brought him to his chest, his hand at his throat.
“Never think you can run, son.”
Ashok fought like never before. He punched, kicked and bit, but his father was stronger and when he came at him with the belt, he tried as hard as he could to protect himself. Ribs cracked, and his head hurt as it bounced off the floor. He curled in on himself; memories of a night just like this two years ago assaulted his mind, only this time, it was his father doing his best to kill him.
He had no doubt that was his intention. He held his breath and took each blow. He refused to cry, refused to shout out, refused to do anything that might elicit a response.
