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Chapter Thirty One.

‘Stand up to him’. It had sounded so simple in my head, like we would just tell Frank’s step-dad we were staying together, then everything would magically be okay and we’d all live happily ever after. I don’t know what I was expecting to be honest.

I knew we probably should’ve told someone about our situation, but I didn’t see how anyone would be able to help us. The fact was that there was no proof of anything his step-dad had done, not firm proof anyway. It was simply the word of two teenagers (who skipped school a lot) against a well-respected man’s. He knew so many people, had so many contacts, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if he even knew a few people on the police force who could turn a blind eye to a few things. Not to mention he was so convincing with his lies.

Frank stayed with me that night. He didn’t sleep much though and neither did I; I kept looking at the neon numbers on my alarm clock, wishing that they’d stop changing so fast. At half past three, I felt Frank’s weight shift towards me in the dark.

“Gee? Are you awake?”

I mumbled something incomprehensible and looked at where I knew he was lying.

“What if…what if we keep it a secret? Us, I mean. What if we just don’t tell him?” he said.

“He’ll find out. We have to do this now, Frankie, we need to resolve this.” I reached out and stroked his hair gently, deliberating telling him an idea I’d had some twenty minutes ago. “I, uh, I’ve got a plan.”

Frank stayed silent, apparently waiting for me to elaborate. “Before we go, I’m gonna tell Mikey to call the cops, that way if he tries anything funny then they’ll catch him and we’ll have proof about everything and then everything will be fine again!”

I blurted out everything a little too quickly, so quick in fact that I wasn’t entirely sure of what I’d said.

“You’re using me as bait?” he asked, evidently upset.

“No! No, I wouldn’t,” I protested. “I won’t let him hurt you. But if we don’t do something then he’s never gonna leave us alone. How else are we gonna get proof of what he’s doing?”

“But, Gee…I’m scared,” he confessed. “I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not going to die! Nobody is, alright?”

Frank fell silent and I realised I must’ve sounded stupid, or just incredibly naïve.

“It’ll be okay,” I told him softly, cuddling into his side.

“How can you be so confident?” he muttered quietly.

“Because we’re supposed to be together,” I said, nudging him gently. “You and me.”

He smiled against my cheek and murmured something that I could only just make out.

“I love you too,” I replied, gently pressing my lips to the corner of his mouth.

As we walked upstairs the following morning, I realised that I finally didn’t care who knew about our relationship. Frank had been at my house all night and I hadn’t once even attempted to hide him. It was a small revelation in my mind that I would’ve happily shared with Frank, but his mind was elsewhere, and so I decided to save my news for another time.

We reached the kitchen and found Mikey sat eating breakfast. He stared at us, studied our linked hands and didn’t say a word. But I didn’t give him a chance; I had a favour to ask of him.

“I need you to do something for me,” I told him, briefly perching on the empty chair beside him.

He put down his spoon and looked at me seriously. “What’s going on?” he asked, confused as his eyes darted between me and Frank.

“If we’re not back here in one hour then I need you to call the cops, okay? Tell them to go to this address.”

I scribbled down Frank’s address and a few extra words and pushed the paper in front of my brother. “This is really important. I need you to do this.”

“What? Gerard, I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

“I can’t explain now. Please just trust me on this?”

Mikey’s eyebrows knitted together in more confusion and his gaze continued to flit between the two of us.

“Okay, but I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said.

I didn’t. But what else could we do? I just wanted Frank safe.

“Thanks, Mikey.” And with that, I hugged him. I hugged my brother and left.

Frank laced our hands together as soon as we were outside. He was quiet for most of the walk to his house, obviously nervous.

“Why does this feel so final?” he asked as his driveway came into view.

I squeezed his hand tighter in response. That was the only consolation I could give him, because honestly, I was feeling the same.

He dug around in his pockets for his front door key and retrieved it slowly, trying to put off going inside as long as possible.

The house was quiet as he opened the door, but the car parked on the driveway told us his step-dad was home.

His voice rose from somewhere deep within the house, calling out Frank’s name like any ordinary parent greeting their child. A flash of doubt seeped into my heart and I wondered whether I was really doing the right thing.

I followed Frank inside and gripped his hand, frightened that he might just be snatched away from me forever if I didn’t hold onto him.

There, smiling in the kitchen doorway, stood his step-dad. Smiling until he saw me, that is.

He frowned and took three strides towards me. “I thought I told you to leave him alone!” he spat, roughly pulling me aside.

“I, I can’t. He needs me!” I stuttered, trying to reason with him, but his fist connected with my face.

“He doesn’t need anyone, especially not you. Do you, Frankie?”

I placed a hand on the wall behind to steady myself and wiped the blood from my nose. “Please don’t hurt him,” I begged.

“He’s my son. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”

“He’s not your son! He’s twice the man you’ll ever be!”

“Shut up!” he snapped. “You’ve brought this upon yourself.”

He left me and suddenly advanced on Frank, who let out a frightened whimper and recoiled against the closed door.

“No! Don’t hurt him!” I pleaded again.

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

Frank suddenly let out a horrifying cry and I couldn’t work out why until my face hit the wooden floor. But by then it was too late and I was falling unconscious.

I don’t remember how long I was out for, but when I awoke, everywhere was silent and there was no sign of Frank or his step dad. I panicked and scrambled to my knees, wincing at the unexpected pain ripping through my upper arm.

“Frank?” I called out for him, feeling guilty about my now broken promise to not leave him alone. But there was no reply.

With all the energy I could muster, I got to my feet and glanced at my watch. Only forty minutes had passed and I realised then that I hadn’t planned this properly.

I was wondering whether Mikey would call the police, when I heard a strange, muffled sound coming from the next room. I stumbled, disorientated, to the doorway. Frank’s body lay limp in the corner with his hands resting loosely over his head. But he was awake, at least he was awake.

“Frankie?” I fell to my knees beside him and pulled him into my lap. “Are you okay?”

His cheeks were wet and his eyes swollen. “My leg hurts,” he said.

“Okay.” I held him tighter against my chest and soothed him. Glancing down at his leg, there wasn’t anything obviously wrong with it, but there were blood smears on his jeans and I wondered what had happened while I was unconscious. I didn’t dare ask him right then though.

“Where is he?” I whispered into his hair, half expecting his step-dad to come bounding around the corner at any moment.

Frank gripped onto my side and looked up at me with difficulty. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, and I didn’t know what he meant.

“Didn’t mean to do what?”

Tears dripped from his eyelashes as he blinked at me. “Frank, what happened?”

“He just…he was so mad, and, and I didn’t know what to do! I couldn’t wake you up and he just came at me, and I thought that, that he was gonna kill me, and—I couldn’t wake you up, Gee! I couldn’t.”

“It’s alright, sugar. It’s gonna be okay. But I need you to tell me where he is.”

“I couldn’t wake you up, Gee.”

“Frank, listen to me. Where is he?”

I followed his gaze to the kitchen door and scooped him up in my arms, thankful that he was so small and light and that it wasn’t too difficult. I didn’t hurry; afterall, I sort of understood what Frank had meant. Deep down I knew, or maybe I just sensed what lay waiting behind the closed door.

My suspicions were confirmed as I peered into the kitchen, intent on not walking any further than the doorway, just in case. There, sprawled on the floor, lay Frank’s step-dad, his eyes staring lifelessly into space. A knife lay redundant beside him.

I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“I didn’t mean to!” Frank wailed as he clung to my shirt, and what little compassion I had for the man lying on the kitchen floor quickly evaporated. He deserved it, afterall.

“I know.”

We sat out on the porch step and waited for the police to arrive. And they did, much to my relief.

The next half an hour seemed a blur. From hearing the sirens approaching down the street to the sound of a car door slamming and footsteps up the driveway. To this day I can’t picture it clearly. I just remember Frank burying his head in my chest and muttering words under his breath, then a policeman was pulling him from my arms. It all seemed surreal and I guess I was a little shell-shocked. The idea that Frank was finally safe was almost too much to take in. I explained everything to the police and reluctantly showed them to the kitchen.

They agreed it was self-defence.

Frank was allowed to stay with me, permanently, due to the fact he was still in school and his aunt didn’t want to disrupt him any further. My mother treated him as her own, and Mikey…well, he got over the shock after a few days.

Even now, as I’m curled up with Frank in our own apartment, he still jokes about how we never used to like each other, how I’d never wanted a relationship or even to be friends with anybody. I had always found friendship to be strange. But love was even stranger; it had always been so much more foreign to me, something unattainable. But as I felt Frank’s arms slip around my waist and his lips graze my cheek in a loving kiss, I think I finally understood what it meant to love someone.

Description
Chapter Thirty One.

‘Stand up to him’. It had sounded so simple in my head, like we would just tell Frank’s step-dad we were staying together, then everything would magically be okay and we’d all live happily ever after. I don’t know what I was expecting to be honest.

I knew we probably should’ve told someone about our situation, but I didn’t see how anyone would be able to help us. The fact was that there was no proof of anything his step-dad had done, not firm proof anyway. It was simply the word of two teenagers (who skipped school a lot) against a well-respected man’s. He knew so many people, had so many contacts, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if he even knew a few people on the police force who could turn a blind eye to a few things. Not to mention he was so convincing with his lies.

Frank stayed with me that night. He didn’t sleep much though and neither did I; I kept looking at the neon numbers on my alarm clock, wishing that they’d stop changing so fast. At half past three, I felt Frank’s weight shift towards me in the dark.

“Gee? Are you awake?”

I mumbled something incomprehensible and looked at where I knew he was lying.

“What if…what if we keep it a secret? Us, I mean. What if we just don’t tell him?” he said.

“He’ll find out. We have to do this now, Frankie, we need to resolve this.” I reached out and stroked his hair gently, deliberating telling him an idea I’d had some twenty minutes ago. “I, uh, I’ve got a plan.”

Frank stayed silent, apparently waiting for me to elaborate. “Before we go, I’m gonna tell Mikey to call the cops, that way if he tries anything funny then they’ll catch him and we’ll have proof about everything and then everything will be fine again!”

I blurted out everything a little too quickly, so quick in fact that I wasn’t entirely sure of what I’d said.

“You’re using me as bait?” he asked, evidently upset.

“No! No, I wouldn’t,” I protested. “I won’t let him hurt you. But if we don’t do something then he’s never gonna leave us alone. How else are we gonna get proof of what he’s doing?”

“But, Gee…I’m scared,” he confessed. “I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not going to die! Nobody is, alright?”

Frank fell silent and I realised I must’ve sounded stupid, or just incredibly naïve.

“It’ll be okay,” I told him softly, cuddling into his side.

“How can you be so confident?” he muttered quietly.

“Because we’re supposed to be together,” I said, nudging him gently. “You and me.”

He smiled against my cheek and murmured something that I could only just make out.

“I love you too,” I replied, gently pressing my lips to the corner of his mouth.

As we walked upstairs the following morning, I realised that I finally didn’t care who knew about our relationship. Frank had been at my house all night and I hadn’t once even attempted to hide him. It was a small revelation in my mind that I would’ve happily shared with Frank, but his mind was elsewhere, and so I decided to save my news for another time.

We reached the kitchen and found Mikey sat eating breakfast. He stared at us, studied our linked hands and didn’t say a word. But I didn’t give him a chance; I had a favour to ask of him.

“I need you to do something for me,” I told him, briefly perching on the empty chair beside him.

He put down his spoon and looked at me seriously. “What’s going on?” he asked, confused as his eyes darted between me and Frank.

“If we’re not back here in one hour then I need you to call the cops, okay? Tell them to go to this address.”

I scribbled down Frank’s address and a few extra words and pushed the paper in front of my brother. “This is really important. I need you to do this.”

“What? Gerard, I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

“I can’t explain now. Please just trust me on this?”

Mikey’s eyebrows knitted together in more confusion and his gaze continued to flit between the two of us.

“Okay, but I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said.

I didn’t. But what else could we do? I just wanted Frank safe.

“Thanks, Mikey.” And with that, I hugged him. I hugged my brother and left.

Frank laced our hands together as soon as we were outside. He was quiet for most of the walk to his house, obviously nervous.

“Why does this feel so final?” he asked as his driveway came into view.

I squeezed his hand tighter in response. That was the only consolation I could give him, because honestly, I was feeling the same.

He dug around in his pockets for his front door key and retrieved it slowly, trying to put off going inside as long as possible.

The house was quiet as he opened the door, but the car parked on the driveway told us his step-dad was home.

His voice rose from somewhere deep within the house, calling out Frank’s name like any ordinary parent greeting their child. A flash of doubt seeped into my heart and I wondered whether I was really doing the right thing.

I followed Frank inside and gripped his hand, frightened that he might just be snatched away from me forever if I didn’t hold onto him.

There, smiling in the kitchen doorway, stood his step-dad. Smiling until he saw me, that is.

He frowned and took three strides towards me. “I thought I told you to leave him alone!” he spat, roughly pulling me aside.

“I, I can’t. He needs me!” I stuttered, trying to reason with him, but his fist connected with my face.

“He doesn’t need anyone, especially not you. Do you, Frankie?”

I placed a hand on the wall behind to steady myself and wiped the blood from my nose. “Please don’t hurt him,” I begged.

“He’s my son. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”

“He’s not your son! He’s twice the man you’ll ever be!”

“Shut up!” he snapped. “You’ve brought this upon yourself.”

He left me and suddenly advanced on Frank, who let out a frightened whimper and recoiled against the closed door.

“No! Don’t hurt him!” I pleaded again.

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

Frank suddenly let out a horrifying cry and I couldn’t work out why until my face hit the wooden floor. But by then it was too late and I was falling unconscious.

I don’t remember how long I was out for, but when I awoke, everywhere was silent and there was no sign of Frank or his step dad. I panicked and scrambled to my knees, wincing at the unexpected pain ripping through my upper arm.

“Frank?” I called out for him, feeling guilty about my now broken promise to not leave him alone. But there was no reply.

With all the energy I could muster, I got to my feet and glanced at my watch. Only forty minutes had passed and I realised then that I hadn’t planned this properly.

I was wondering whether Mikey would call the police, when I heard a strange, muffled sound coming from the next room. I stumbled, disorientated, to the doorway. Frank’s body lay limp in the corner with his hands resting loosely over his head. But he was awake, at least he was awake.

“Frankie?” I fell to my knees beside him and pulled him into my lap. “Are you okay?”

His cheeks were wet and his eyes swollen. “My leg hurts,” he said.

“Okay.” I held him tighter against my chest and soothed him. Glancing down at his leg, there wasn’t anything obviously wrong with it, but there were blood smears on his jeans and I wondered what had happened while I was unconscious. I didn’t dare ask him right then though.

“Where is he?” I whispered into his hair, half expecting his step-dad to come bounding around the corner at any moment.

Frank gripped onto my side and looked up at me with difficulty. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, and I didn’t know what he meant.

“Didn’t mean to do what?”

Tears dripped from his eyelashes as he blinked at me. “Frank, what happened?”

“He just…he was so mad, and, and I didn’t know what to do! I couldn’t wake you up and he just came at me, and I thought that, that he was gonna kill me, and—I couldn’t wake you up, Gee! I couldn’t.”

“It’s alright, sugar. It’s gonna be okay. But I need you to tell me where he is.”

“I couldn’t wake you up, Gee.”

“Frank, listen to me. Where is he?”

I followed his gaze to the kitchen door and scooped him up in my arms, thankful that he was so small and light and that it wasn’t too difficult. I didn’t hurry; afterall, I sort of understood what Frank had meant. Deep down I knew, or maybe I just sensed what lay waiting behind the closed door.

My suspicions were confirmed as I peered into the kitchen, intent on not walking any further than the doorway, just in case. There, sprawled on the floor, lay Frank’s step-dad, his eyes staring lifelessly into space. A knife lay redundant beside him.

I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“I didn’t mean to!” Frank wailed as he clung to my shirt, and what little compassion I had for the man lying on the kitchen floor quickly evaporated. He deserved it, afterall.

“I know.”

We sat out on the porch step and waited for the police to arrive. And they did, much to my relief.

The next half an hour seemed a blur. From hearing the sirens approaching down the street to the sound of a car door slamming and footsteps up the driveway. To this day I can’t picture it clearly. I just remember Frank burying his head in my chest and muttering words under his breath, then a policeman was pulling him from my arms. It all seemed surreal and I guess I was a little shell-shocked. The idea that Frank was finally safe was almost too much to take in. I explained everything to the police and reluctantly showed them to the kitchen.

They agreed it was self-defence.

Frank was allowed to stay with me, permanently, due to the fact he was still in school and his aunt didn’t want to disrupt him any further. My mother treated him as her own, and Mikey…well, he got over the shock after a few days.

Even now, as I’m curled up with Frank in our own apartment, he still jokes about how we never used to like each other, how I’d never wanted a relationship or even to be friends with anybody. I had always found friendship to be strange. But love was even stranger; it had always been so much more foreign to me, something unattainable. But as I felt Frank’s arms slip around my waist and his lips graze my cheek in a loving kiss, I think I finally understood what it meant to love someone.