Chapter 15

ROCCO

My thoughts were spiralling, as they often did these days.

All I could think of was sea-glass eyes and golden skin

slender, strong hands lifting a drink bottle to wet lips

slicked back hair

and those eyes again

wide-eyed and surprised, or lazy, or cold.

I stared up at the ceiling. My bed was soft, but I didn't feel like sleeping.

The way he spoke to me. There was no way he didn't know what he was doing. He was such a - such an asshole. Like if you asked everyone in school to vote for a king asshole he would be crowned.

I had come out to my parents, all confident, but I wasn't actually comfortable with it. With myself.

What kind of fucking loser thinks about Jax Wilson like this?

Many losers do, I reminded myself.

But not me. Not Rocco Denver.

Rocco Denver couldn't be gay.

But then I thought of damp brown eyelashes and flexing muscles and I was spiralling again. He would have my vote.

There was no way though. I didn't want to wear makeup, or some shit like that. I wasn't transgender - there was no way in hell I wanted to be a girl. I felt fine as this Rocco Denver. I didn't want to change him.

I let my internal monologue go on for a few more moments before I sat up, swinging my legs around.

I got changed quickly, slinging my heavy black Wolverines jacket over my shoulders, then I was out the window.

I couldn't help remembering him climbing in that night, drunk and slightly crazed. I shoved those thoughts out of my head, careful to be quiet as I climbed down the pipes.

I wheeled my bike a little way away from my house so the start-up wouldn't be heard. It is actually possible to ride motorbikes a lot quieter than I usually do. I sped down the darkened streets of my neighbourhood, wind cooling my face between the gaps in my helmet. This was it, it really was - riding my bike alone at night, helmet over my face so if anyone I knew saw me they wouldn't recognise me.

I was speeding, I knew I was, but I was on a straight road.

When I pulled up at Rio's girlfriend's house, the blasting music and flashy lights were good at blocking out my thoughts as well. As I neared the front of her house, Rio threw open the door and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. He reeked of sweat, alcohol, and smoke. He was holding a joint between his fingers, which he offered to me. I took it in my lips, sucking in the smoke, feeling my lungs expand with it.

"Our boy!" He yelled to a crowd near the kitchen. "Our boy Rocco's here!"

A cheer went up, half from people I didn't know. I grinned, embarrassed.

Rio leaned towards me, shouting over the music. "Do you know, when you went on holiday, I thought Wilson had kidnapped you! We went and hassled him about it!"

My eyes widened, then I laughed. Like properly laughed, for the first time in ages. "You dumb bitch!" I yelled back to Rio, then slapped him on the back and headed outside towards the pool. The light was reflecting up from the water, scattered across the house's property walls. Some Wolverine guys had set up a table for beer pong, and there was a bong being shared under a large tree to the side.

I breathed in the scent of weed and sweat and chlorine, and then someone in a black leather jacket grabbed me and shoved a ping pong ball in my hand, pushing me towards the beer pong table.

I aimed, and threw.

-----

JAX

I wanted to see my mom.

The lights in our house were on - she hadn't gone to bed yet.

I closed the door quietly behind me - force of habit or some shit. I slipped through the dark hallway to the lounge. My mother was sitting at the table, holding a cup of steaming tea with both hands. She was staring at the TV blankly.

She jumped when she saw me, then the corners of her mouth turned up.

"Jax!" she said. "How are you, baby?"

"Hi, mom. " I said, sliding into a chair opposite her. With a jolt, I saw that her eyes were red, her cheeks blotchy.

"Mom!" I said in shock. "What's wrong?"

She wiped her eyes quickly. "What? Oh, nothing. I'm ok. Ha ha!"

I grabbed her wrist. "No, mom, what happened? Was it dad?"

Something strange flitted in her eyes. "Oh, no. No, it wasn't."

"What is it then?" I pleaded.

She laughed again, then sighed, kind of sinking down into the chair, her shoulders slumping. There was a long silence.

"Ok. I'll tell you. The friend I told you about? Well, it didn't really work out. It's ok though. I'll be fine. "

My heart sank. My poor, lonely, loyal mother. The only thing getting her out of the house was gone. I was an awful son.

"I'm so sorry, mom. She doesn't deserve you. "

Surprise flashed in her eyes, then she smiled, almost uncomfortably. "Thanks, baby. You know who I don't deserve? You. I'll go get you some tea. "

I watched it, feeling helpless. "Ok, mom."

So that was what she did. She poured tea and brought out some custard creams, and pulled the curtains shut and we just talked.

It was kind of good though, to talk to my mom after so long. We were laughing about Coach when he was drunk - it made him tell the most god-awful jokes ever invented  -  when the front door slammed.

Immediately it felt like ice water had been poured over me and I stiffened. My mother did too, although she tried to hide it, raising her cup to take another sip of tea.

We were silent as footsteps thumped down the hallway, then my father filled up the doorframe to the lounge, staring at me.

He was obviously drunk, his cheeks ruddy and his steps heavy. I stared back, stupidly, like a rabbit in headlights.

"My son. " He slurred. He came towards me slowly, my mother watching nervously. "My son. "

He burped. "Where you been, huh? Sleeping around?"

He picked up my empty cup. "Who would take you, huh? My stupid fuck-up of a son. Ignoring his father. Now you come crawling back to take advantage of us, huh?

He inspected the dregs at the bottom of the cup.

"Talking back to me, huh? You did wrong, last time you came. You did wrong. "

He turned away from me, then abruptly spun back around, throwing the cup at the wall behind my head. I flinched as it shattered, and my mother let out a little horrified sound.

"You're a parasite to everyone who knows you. " My father leaned forward, beer-breath in my face. "Now you've come back here to feed off of us?"

He grabbed the front of my shirt, lifting me up, slamming me against the wall he had just thrown the cup at, and punched me in the stomach. My mother cried out. I doubled over, coughing, as pain racketed through me.

"You're an ungrateful little shit. " He spat. "Not worthy of being in the Cobras, or being my son. "

He let go, turning to my mother. "And you, you stupid bitch. Letting him in the house. You've gone soft. "

She drew back, her face tight with fear. This seemed to feed his ego.

"And where's dinner, huh? Can't a man comeback to a decent meal anymore?" He was screaming now. I saw the moment he raised his hand to her, fist clenching in the air, ready to strike, and I drove my fist into his nose.

My mother let out a scream.

My father was immediately on me, his hands on my neck, whacking my head into the wall, sending a burst of pain through my skull. My mother was crying and screaming. She had grabbed onto my father's arm trying to hold him back.

"Aaron, Aaron, " She pleaded. "Don't hurt him. Stop. Please. "

He drew his arm back and elbowed her across the face. Her head snapped back and she fell backwards.

Stars were beginning to appear in front of my eyes. I clawed at his tightening hands, fear suddenly overpowering. Was this how I was going to die? Was he going to kill me?

I was choking now. Gasping. Hands were crushing around my throat. Couldn't breathe. Hurts. Panicking. Panicking. Helpless.

And then the pressure was gone and I fell to my hands and knees, hacking coughs shaking my body. It felt like my throat had been clawed from the inside, like it had been ripped to shreds. I couldn't move for a few seconds, just sucked air desperately into my lungs. My vision was clearing, but my head pounded painfully. I rolled over to my side, unable to keep myself up any longer, my muscles exhausted of oxygen. My mother lay on the floor across from me, tears silently pouring from her eyes as she watched me.

I looked up, at saw my father staring at me, blood dripping down from his nose, something like horror in his face.

His eyes flicked from me to my mother. He breathed in shakily.

"Lyli. " He turned to my mother. "Lyli. Oh my god, what did I do this time, Lyli?" His eyes flicked back to me. "Jax. My son. I'm so so sorry. I'm so so so so sorry."

"GET OUT!" My mother screamed at him, the sound ripping from her throat, finally taking her eyes off of me.

I heard my father take a few more uneven breaths, then he turned and his footsteps faded away. The front door closed.

I stared at my mother. I had never heard her raise her voice like that, ever. Painfully, I staggered to my feet. I made my way over to her over shards of broken ceramic. She looked up at me, eyes shining.

"Mom. " I said hoarsely, sure the inside of my throat was bleeding. "Are you ok, mom?"

The tears spilled from her eyes and she gaped at me. "How - how could I let that happen to you, Jax? My baby, my son!" Her shoulders shook, and then my mother broke down, heaving, rocking back and forth.

Even though my hands shook, I grabbed her hands and lifted her to her feet.

"Shh. Shh, mom, it's ok. "

I led her up the darkened stairs, and helped her into bed. I got a warm cloth so she could wipe her face, and some mouthwash.

"It's ok, mom. Look, it's time to go to bed. "

"Ok, Jax. " She said, through a mouthful of tears.

I turned off the light and closed the door quietly. I stood outside for a few moments, listening to the sobs that shook her whole body.

My jaw clenched, and pain enveloped my whole neck.

I stared up at the dark ceiling, and felt hot tears blur my eyesight. I wiped my eyes furiously, and then pulled out my phone.

He picked up quickly, even though it was late. "Hey son. It's twelve o'clock. What's the matter?"

I swallowed, cringing with pain. "Hey Coach?"

"Yes, Wilson?"

"I might have to take you up on that offer. Of somewhere to stay, I mean."