Offside (64 page)

“Get away from me.” Scott held his hand up to keep Zach away. Zach stayed where he was. “How much did he tell you? Did he tell you how I sold myself to play the game? For nice clothes and good meals? Did he tell you how I wanted it so much that I would do anything? Because it’s true. It’s fucking true and I don’t—” His words caught. He forced them out. “—I don’t regret it. It didn’t matter. I loved the game. I
love
the game. I’m here now, and that’s all that counts.”

“That’s not true, Scott.” Zach shifted as though he was having a hard time not closing the distance between them. “You were a child. You were ten years old, and she was supposed to take care of you.”

“I knew what I wanted. Don’t look at me like that!” Scott voice cracked as Becky’s hand hovered over her throat and her lips parted. She held out her hand, tears streaming down her face, face pale with shock. He shook his head. “Don’t pity me. It wasn’t bad. She loved me and she
did
take care of me. But not Jimmy. I tried to help him, but it wasn’t enough. It will never be enough because she had something with me she didn’t have with him. She gave him more when I—” Becky’s tears were killing him. A fucking blunt dagger stabbing straight into his heart. “Don’t. Becky, please don’t. You’re seeing it all wrong. I wanted it. I was . . . mature for my age. You’re not seeing it right.”

“Scott, you were a baby.” Becky made a soft, hushing sound. “Please listen to me. I know you’re upset. You have every right to be. But you have to see—”

“See what?” Scott ground his teeth as the nurse rushed into the room. Fuck, they might as well broadcast this to the whole world. The press would love this. Poor him. He’d had sex young.
So fucking what?
“Please give us a minute.”

“Sir, you really should . . .” The nurse took a deep breath and shook her head. “The doctor will be signing you out shortly. I’ll let you finish this.”

Finish this. Damn right, they would. He waited for the door to close, then sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. “Becky, you don’t know what I was like back then.” He let out a sharp laugh. “I bet you can guess though! I was sneaking peeks at the pornos with the older kids. Wondering what it would be like. To have a woman want you, to have them touch you . . . You two apparently want the truth, so here it is. I liked it when she touched me. It felt good. I didn’t . . . I couldn’t go all the way for a bit, but she waited. She took her time with me. Gave me what every young man fantasizes about.” Becky’s expression made him want to hold her. To explain things to her gently. To tell her that men were different. Fuck, she had a little girl and she was probably thinking . . . but it wasn’t the same. Not at all. “Becky, you can’t . . . I know it’s hard, but picture me. Just a bit smaller. It’s really not a big deal. Boys want to be men. She helped me become a man.”

“Do you really believe that? You didn’t ever want . . .” Becky gulped in air like she was drowning. Shook her head. “Want her to just love you without asking for anything in return?”

“She took in two kids when our parents couldn’t take care of us. She didn’t have things easy. Her husband was mean. He couldn’t do it for her. I did.” Scott pressed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see how things had been. He didn’t want to go back there.

But he did, because maybe it could help him make things clear. He remembered the first time she’d come to his bed. Crying, telling him that her husband said she was ugly because she was fat. She wasn’t fat. She was soft and warm, so different from his mother who had been skinny. Hard. Cold. His mother held him to shut him up. She’d covered his mouth and hissed at him to be quiet because his father was talking to important people. His foster mother had let him cry. Let him ask about his mother and his father. And she’d told him the truth.

His parents were losers. But he didn’t have to be like them. He was good looking. Strong. Talented. And she knew he would be someone. She just needed him to be there for her like she’d be there for him. To make her feel loved. Worth something. Yeah, sometimes it felt weird. Like when she’d made him call her “Mommy.” When he just wanted to sleep and she wouldn’t stop. When . . .

Damn it, he couldn’t let what Becky and Zach thought change what had really happened. He’d been a bit skinny at the beginning but never a little boy. She’d given him treats. And the rum. He took a deep breath, staring down at his socked feet. Little boys didn’t drink rum.

“You must think I’m disgusting. To find out I was like this, even then.” His lips formed a hard smile. “It just sucks, you know? All that work ‘improving’ myself, but I can’t change what I’ve already done.”

“What she did, Scott.” Zach grabbed a towel from the small pile on the table by the window. He latched on to Scott’s wrist, then gently cleaned the dried blood from his hand. He held tight when Scott tried to pull away. “And that doesn’t change how I feel about you. Not in the least.”

Becky sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out as though to touch Scott’s hair. Pausing as though she wasn’t sure he’d want her to. “This has changed nothing for me either, Scott.”

He shook his head, taking her hand and pressing it to the side of his face. “Then why are you afraid to touch me?”

“I’m not.” Fresh tears spilled from Becky’s eyes. She moved her hand down a bit and stroked her thumb over his bottom lip. “I’m afraid with all this being brought up, you might not want me to.”

Oh God.
How could she even think—he let out a sharp sound, speaking without thinking. “I’m not some kind of victim, Becky. I want you to touch me. You’re not like any other woman I’ve ever been with. And you’re
nothing
like her. It never feels wrong when I’m with you.”

Neither Becky or Zach said a word. Becky just kept her hand on his face. Looking at him with . . . not with pity. More like she was waiting for something. Zach’s expression held more of the same.

He rolled his eyes, sneering as he felt the warmth of tears spilling down his own cheek, moistening Becky’s fingertips. “Is that what you want to hear? That it felt wrong?” He bit into his cheek hard, hoping the pain from that and the dull throb in his head would toughen him up a bit. He didn’t need anyone feeling sorry for him. “It did. Sometimes it made me sick. But I never said no. I never fought.” He turned away from Zach’s level gaze. “I could have stopped her if I’d wanted to. I never tried.”

“Never, Scott?” Zach asked, quietly.

“Not loud enough. Not hard enough.” Scott recalled the weak efforts he’d made. They didn’t count for anything. “Look at me, Zach. You really believe she overpowered me? Forced herself on me?”

Zach pulled out his phone. Tapped the screen and revealed a picture he must have found before coming to the room. Scott went perfectly still as he stared at a picture of himself. He couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven, a scrawny little thing. Posing for a picture with his brand new hockey stick, holding it all wrong, but something about his expression . . . it was like he thought someone would take it away. And he had. He’d believed all the good things would be taken away.

“I believe that she was a horrible woman. That what she did to you was despicable. She had no right to . . .” Zach took a deep breath. “And somewhere, deep inside, I think you know that too.”

The doctor knocked at the door. Just in time, because Scott really didn’t know what to say. He tried to listen to the doctor’s instructions, took his prescriptions, then signed all the necessary paperwork. Had Becky and Zach wait in the hall while he got dressed. Didn’t argue when an orderly came with a wheelchair to roll him out. He felt utterly drained. This whole stupid conversation had taken what little energy the stupid virus had left. He was glad that Zach didn’t demand that he talk more when they got to Becky’s car. Or when they got to her house.

But it wasn’t over. There was still Jimmy to deal with. And eventually this would all come up again. Whether it was Becky or Zach just wanting to make sure he was okay. Or a nightmare that woke him up screaming. Screaming those words he’d whispered as a child.

No! Don’t, please don’t!

Because somewhere deep, deep down inside, he’d known then as he knew now.

It was wrong.

“S
top
.”

Becky rolled over and took a deep breath as she stared at the baby monitor she’d set up on her nightstand. Neither Scott nor Zach knew she’d hooked one up in the den and in the basement. Zach had been too busy making sure Scott was comfortable on the sofa bed, then distracting Casey while Becky made sure Scott took his meds and covered all his spots with calamine lotion. The image of Zach sitting across from Casey on the floor, sipping iced tea from a teacup he looked afraid to break, had made drifting off to sleep a little easier.

Poor Casey. Her baby felt so bad about Scott being sick. She blamed herself for feeding him soup and giving him her germs. Then insisted Becky make him more since he liked it so much.

Through the baby monitor, Becky could hear Zach speaking softly. Trying to calm Scott without waking him. Letting Scott know he was there. That Scott was safe.

“Stop! I said stop! I said it!” Scott let out a choked sob and raw pain clenched deep in Becky’s chest. She hurried across the room to grab her housecoat, slipping by Casey’s room with a glance in to make sure her daughter was still asleep.

Part of her had wondered if she was doing the right thing. She needed Scott here. Where she could take care of him. Where she could make sure that he’d really be okay. But was she doing the right thing as a mother? Without giving any details, she’d called her own mother to see what she thought. He mother had been with the same man most of her life, but she’d faced her own obstacles. Issues with her family, with Daddy’s, letting her brother, and once her cousin stay with them during hard times. Becky couldn’t recall any of those long visits affecting her own schedule.

But she wasn’t her mother. And Zach and Scott weren’t family . . . not in any way those looking in would care about. They would judge. They would call her a bad mother.

What if Patrick finds out?

Becky hurried down the first flight of stairs. Then cut across the kitchen to head down to the basement. She focused on her mother’s words.

“Do they love my granddaughter? Are they good with her?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t bother with them otherwise.” Becky hesitated. “But it’s too soon to—”

“Too soon? For what exactly? To show your daughter what you’re willing to do for the people who matter to you?”

Letting out a sigh into the phone, Becky shook her head. “No. For my daughter to know how much they matter. I haven’t been seeing Zach for that long. And Scott . . . how do I explain this to her?”

Her mother chuckled. “Cherie, you don’t. They aren’t strangers to her. For now, they are Landon’s friends. And yours. To Casey, you’re taking care of a sick friend. That’s it. When they move in for good, we’ll have this chat again.” She paused. “And then I will tell you a child can never have enough love. Which is exactly what I told your brother.”

“Landon was worried? But Amia will grow up with the three of them.”

“Yes. With two men who are very close. Who are both ‘Daddy.’ Landon refuses to let Dean be any less. To let Akia call him uncle or something else for appearances. But he is worried that he’s making things more difficult for her.”

“What did you tell him?”

“What I’m telling you. Every child has their own story. Their own hardships. Being the most important little person in many people’s lives will never be one of them.”

And that had settled it for Becky. She’d gotten all worked up about Zach not being able to love her, and Scott, and Casey. As though love was a pot of stew, very filling, but with only so many helpings to dish out. Even with how worried he was about Scott, when Zach sat across from Casey to play tea party, he gave her his all. And he always would. Becky didn’t doubt that. Not anymore.

By the time she got to the den, Scott was awake, letting out an amused snort as Zach uncapped a bottle of water and handed it to him.

He took a few gulps, then shook his head. “Aftercare for a bad dream?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Zach moved to cross his arms over his chest, stopped, then hooked his thumbs to the waistband of his boxers. The gesture made Becky’s mouth dry. The way his hands framed the carved slope of his pelvis, darkened with soft, springy hair . . .

She made herself look away, annoyed with herself. Scott needed her full attention.

But Scott simply let out a low laugh, his eyes hooded as his gaze trailed over Zach’s hard body. “He’s something else, isn’t he? If I had the energy, I’d grab him and—”

“Well, you don’t.” Zach’s tone was rough, but his lips curved in a way that made it obvious he didn’t mind having them both stare at him. He shook his head and nudged Scott’s shoulder to get him to lie down. “And you didn’t answer me.”

Scott blinked innocently. “I didn’t? Sorry, was busy stripping you with my eyes.”

That made Becky smile. Nothing held Scott down for long. But she knew Zach wouldn’t let him flirt his way out of the discussion.

“Do you—” Zach leaned over Scott, the hint of mirth from before gone from his features “—want to talk about it?”

“Damn it, back to that?” Scott dropped onto the pillow, hands behind his head, glaring at the ceiling. “No. I don’t want to talk about it.” His nostrils flared. “Ever again. How’s that for an answer?”

“Scott, holding this in has been hurting you. It’s the reason for—”

“Don’t even fucking go there.” Scott winced as if his own sharp words were hurting his head. He let out a pitiful cough. Scratched at his belly. “This is horrible. Itchy, sore, sick, and all you do is nag at me.” He turned his head and gave Becky a weak smile. “Do you think I can have more of that soup? And maybe you can sit with me for a bit. His snoring is disturbing my much-needed sleep.”

“My poor baby,” Becky said, teasing him a little as she gently nudged his hand away from his stomach. “Don’t do that.”