Until the smell of his own blood finally became too much, and he’d been unable to crawl away from the beating.
“My father… my real father, not whoever showed up at Skywood… he….” The words were too hard to find, and Damien swallowed, his vision suddenly wavering from a sting of tears. “Those scars are from him. He had this… I don’t know what it’s called, but it was thin and metal. When he swung it, it would bend. Most of the time, it would just hurt, you know? But you couldn’t move away or try to block it because he’d grab you… grab me… and it wouldn’t stop.”
“Where was your mum in this? Didn’t she say something to him?” Sionn shifted closer, reaching for Damien, but he pulled away, not trusting himself to be touched. “I know we talked a bit last night, but… you never really spoke about her, D.”
“She’s—” Too many memories of his mother were flavored by the stink of gin or bourbon roiling off her skin. He couldn’t stand the taste of orange juice because he’d puked from draining a glass she’d poured for herself one morning. “She had me to keep my father, I think. It was more like playing dress-up. They only got married because she was pregnant. I was like a toy. A fucking toy she handed over to him to play with.”
“She didn’t have to stay with him, Damie. You’re her son. She could have taken you away. Like my da did with me. My mum’s… for all my gran tried, she’s just no good.”
“So we both had shitty parents.” Damien snorted. “Isn’t one of us supposed to come from the perfect kind of home so the other can learn about love?”
“I know about love, D.” Sionn’s voice was a soft whisper, but so heavy with promise it wept sweet nectar Damie wanted to catch on his tongue and swallow. “I can teach it to you.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, dude.” Damien swallowed at the lump in his throat. “People… leave. They get tired of my shit or I’m not… I’m too fucked-up to be with. At some point, you’re going to be looking for the door out. Everyone else has.”
“I’m not everybody else, boyo. And I’d be insulted by that if I didn’t think you’ve had a few hits to the head.” His fingers skimmed over the blankets, tracing the rise of Damien’s thigh. “And I’ve had my uncle’s family and my gran, but no one’s perfect. Look at my mum. Last thing I heard, she was doing time for stabbing a man who paid her for a good time. And my da couldn’t handle me liking other men. Sometimes, parents aren’t always the people they need to be for a kid.”
“Oh, I know that shit, for sure.”
“So tell me, why’d your mum stay with your dad? When she could have taken you out of there?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know why they stayed married. Maybe because they really liked making each other miserable. All they did… do… is fight and pull at me. She used to scream at me that her life would be perfect if I’d only behave. I fucking did everything I could until… I left.”
“Sounds like leaving was something you had to do.”
“It was too much, you know?” Damien risked looking at Sionn. The man’s hand hovered near, and Damien shook his head, warning him off. “Don’t… I can’t. I won’t be able to talk this out if you touch me. I’ll break, Irish. I know I will.”
“Let me hold you, Damie boy. Someone should have done it a long time ago, and damn those people for not treasuring you.” Sionn edged closer, sliding his arm around Damien.
He was stronger, a gentle force Damie couldn’t resist, especially when he slid under the covers and cradled Damien’s back against his chest. His thighs braced Damie’s hips, the curves of their bodies fitting into one another. Sionn’s arms came around Damien’s chest, holding him tight, and for a moment, he felt Sionn’s lips brush the back of his head.
He bit his lip to stop himself from crying, but the brief spark of pain didn’t help. Hot drops hit Sionn’s forearms, but the man said nothing about it, only urging Damien to continue.
“What made you leave, D?”
“He lost it one night.” Try as he might, Damien couldn’t recall what set his father off. “He was so fucking mad. My mom… I can’t remember where she was. Fuck, she might have been right there, but… I guess that doesn’t really matter. I came home from school, and he was waiting for me. With that switch. Just standing there in his den. Waiting for me.”
“We had a housekeeper. I remember her telling me she was going to the store and my dad wanted to see me. I passed her coming out.” He snorted. “She never went to the store. We had stuff delivered, but I didn’t think that it was weird. Figured out later she probably wanted to get the fuck out of there.”