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“Maybe that’ll keep you off your back for awhile.”
The implication makes my throat burn. He’d throw a goddamn fucking beer bottle at his own kid because he might take it up the ass? What the ever loving fuck?
Rational thought flies entirely out the window as I storm back to the trailer. Blair shouts after me, but there’s too much blood pumping in my ears to hear him. The trailer sits on a couple of cinderblocks, but it’s no more than a few feet off the ground, and with Mr. Novak in his chair, I can come pretty close to getting in his face.
“You have two of the most fucking incredible sons,” I spit the words more than say them. “You don’t deserve either one. Make one more goddamn joke, jab, or phobic-ass comment about them and so help me whatever god you believe in, I’ll make sure this chair finds a tall ass cliff and rolls itself right off with you in it. Test me, sir.”
I don’t wait or give him a chance to reply, just turn and head back to the truck, stopping only to take another look at Blair’s back.
“Want me to take you to the hospital?”
He shakes his head, wincing when I brush away some of the shallow shards. “Can’t afford it.”
Even though I don’t like it, I agree. I’ve got some half-assed coverage from my scholarship, but even that only really applies to local clinics and not an entire ER trip.
As we settle into the truck, Blair holding on to the oh-shit bar and leaning forward to keep pressure off his back, I put a comforting hand on his knee. There isn’t much I can do right now other than drive us back to his apartment and help clean him up, but at least until we get there I can offer him support.
That’s what I’m here for, right?
“Ya know,” I say as I back out of the gravel drive. “I didn’t know your dad drank the kind of stuff that shatters like that.”
Blair chokes on his own laugh, pain and discomfort laced through, but he places his hand on top of mine and leans his forehead on the dash. He doesn’t speak, and I think there’s more going on in there than just distracting himself, but when he’s ready to talk about it, he will.
And I’ll be here.
His dad might have it twisted, but both Novak brothers are extremely important to me. And they both deserve better.
So much fucking better.
Chapter 15
Blair
Most of the glass is superficial, and it only takes Atlas a few minutes to pick out the pieces that decided to dig in, but all the tiny little cuts feel like razor blades as he drags a soapy washcloth over them.
“Your dad is a piece of work, isn’t he?”
I smile despite the pain I’m in. “He wasn’t always that way.”
Atlas’ warm lips press to the back of my neck, and when I crane my head to see him, he’s wringing the pink-tinged washcloth over the bathroom sink. When he’s finished, he turns back and his hand finds my skin in a gentle, soothing touch.
“I’m sorry,” he says, dragging his touch down my spine and making me shiver.
“Nothing to be sorry for.”
There’s a quiet thud followed by arms snaking around my waist and Atlas’ forehead resting on my shoulder. “I provoked him.”
I grip his hands where they splay over my stomach. “I provoke him by existing.”
“Which is bullshit.”
We hold each other in silence. Noah is in study mode and isn’t likely to leave his room for most of the night. In fact, his headphones mean that he won’t even notice anyone is here until he has to take a bathroom break. It’s like Atlas and I have the place to ourselves, and right now I could really use that solitude.
This isn’t even the first time Dad has gone after me with a beer bottle, and it isn’t the worst he’s cut me, either. What started as hitting and shoving around turned into more over the years, more creative ways to hurt a person than just nasty words and fists.
Atlas is never stationary when he’s touching me, and it keeps me from going too deep into my thoughts. His hands travel my chest, my sides; his fingers tap out a nonsensical pattern. His lips tease the skin of my shoulder, kisses trailing over ink and cuts, but that doesn’t stop him. He brushes his nose across the stars on my back; I can feel his breath as he leaves open mouthed kisses on them, but it’s when he scrapes his teeth over the moon near my nape that I gasp, and not in pain, but something else.
It should hurt, and maybe it does, but it’s the way that he closes his mouth over the spot and sucks that takes the sting away.
