He was soon grateful for the shadows, because it seemed the dark was a safe place for Damien to talk.
“Tell me what you saw, boyo.” Sionn stroked Damie’s nape. The man’s heart beat so hard Sionn could feel his pulse rock the skin under Sionn’s fingers. “I’m here, love.”
“My father…. I can’t see his face, but I can feel how much he hated me. How they both hated me. I don’t know why my parents had me.” His whisper was nearly too soft to hear over the rain, so Sionn bent his head closer, tucking Damien against him. “And it’s not just me. They hated each other. Everything I remember about them is fucked up. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I couldn’t wait to spend one fucking day without being hit or screamed at. Why the fuck can’t I see their faces? Shouldn’t I be able to see them?”
“What do you remember, D?” Sionn tightened his hold, unwilling to let the man go. “About your parents?”
“Maybe a bit more than before. I think. They have money. The house… it’s huge, and everything inside is so damned cold.” Damien trapped a sob in his throat. “I don’t understand why… nothing I remember about them is good. Everything’s wrapped up in some kind of pain or… hurt inside. Like nothing was good enough. I wasn’t good enough. Even before… he thought I was gay… am gay. Fuck, my head is pounding.”
“Take a deep breath. It’ll be okay, Damie boy.” Hearing his name on Sionn’s lips seemed to calm Damien down a bit, and he relaxed slightly in Sionn’s arms. “You don’t have to go back there.”
“They’re my damned parents.” The anger was back in Damien’s voice, crackling over his anguish. “They’re not supposed to try to hurt you, right? That’s just fucked in the head, but it’s like I can’t stop thinking…. I could have been better… done better. Then finally I just didn’t… care anymore.”
“Just because someone feeds you, doesn’t mean that they can hurt you. Parents are supposed to raise their children, not destroy them.”
“People don’t fucking hear that. I remember telling people. Or trying to.” His ire was visceral and intense. The rage he’d hidden behind a wall of forgetfulness was pouring out, too strong of a flow to be stopped. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I got tired of being sore all the time. That’s what Skywood felt like. Like I was a kid again, and I couldn’t figure it out, but now… I get it. ’Cause there was no one to stop those guys up there from beating the shit out of me. Not because I did anything wrong but because they could. Assholes. Just like my damned parents.”
“Then I’m glad it burnt to the ground or I would have done it myself.” That earned Sionn a wee chuckle. “Promise you that, D. That place went back to its hell.”
“Being in that place… in Skywood… I didn’t have any control. Over anything. I’d promised myself I’d never let anyone do that to me again, and there I was… trapped under someone’s thumb again.”
“Do you think they are the ones who put you in there?” It was a possibility, one Sionn pondered in his contemplation of the rain. “Your parents, I mean. Someone got you from your dying to the mountains. We’ll have to figure out who that was.”
A weighted silence stretched time out until Damien finally spoke. “I don’t know. I think… they’d have enough money to, but why? None of this makes sense.”
“How was it with you and them before the accident?”
“Shit, I haven’t seen them in… I don’t know. I think after I left, I closed the door on that crap and never looked back.” Damien’s face shifted, and he grimaced uncomfortably. “Dude, I’m sorry… can you let me go? I’ve got to go pee and maybe just go drown in the sink or something.”
“Okay, sure. Once again, a man’s bladder ruins the moment.” Sionn let him go. “Don’t drown, though. Maybe when you come back, we can get some food in you instead.”
Reluctantly, Damien pulled free and hobbled to the back of the loft. Sionn waited until he heard the bathroom door close, picked up his phone, and dialed a number he’d have to be dead to forget. It rang twice before it was answered by a gravelly voice with an accent steeped deeper in Irish than Sionn’s own.
“Hello, Uncle. It’s Sionn.” After taking a deep breath, he answered the querulous grumble. “No… no, everything’s all right. No, no bail money or anything. Look, I know it’s late and I’m sorry, but… can I bring someone over tomorrow? I think he needs your help.”
Chapter 7
Make mine a double,
And keep them coming, baby girl
Leave out the ice,
And drop off the bottle too
I’m drinking to forget
I’ll drink ’til I bleed
Tonight’s going to be long
That bottle’s all I need
—Double Shot Dance