Don't Touch Me! - 34

 

"They beat the hell out of me," Cody whimpered. "One of them pulled my arms around behind the tree to hold me there. The other two…" he unashamedly wiped away a tear. "My father stood there, watching, this sick smile on his face, while they pummeled me.

"God damn it!" Brent swore vehemently.

"It's okay," Cody said. "I forgot what they did so…" He shuddered.

"How did they explain? I mean, you must have had injuries."

"My father said I fell down one of the cliffs by the river. When I came to afterward, I was at the bottom of the cliff, with my father and a couple of other people bending over me. One of them, a woman, was checking—" he smiled sourly, "—my vitals. Apparently she was the factory's nurse. She had them carry me back. Then my folks took me to the hospital. I spent three days there, in part because the doctors wanted to make sure I didn't have a concussion or internal damages. They were worried because I couldn't remember why I was at the top of the cliff in the first place." Cody gazed off into space. "I believed the story, because, well, I had no reason not to. I mean—" he tapped the side of his head, "—for whatever reason, I blocked out what had really happened until…until the man grabbed me the night I left the bar." He looked bitterly at Brent. "Then I forgot that happened too, until tonight."

"You blocked it because your father instigated the beating," Brent pointed out angrily.

"Yeah. I know you're right." Cody stared at him. "How could a man hate his son enough to do that to him?"

"He was sick, Cody," Brent replied, reaching for his hand. He pulled back before he could touch him. "Very sick and very evil, in my opinion."

"He never acted as if he was, except that one time. Yeah, he lectured me. Tried to convince me I wasn't really gay—even after the picnic. But he never hit me. He never even tried to."

"Maybe, since you didn't say anything, he figured the lesson—" Brent spat out the word, "—took. And that you were too terrified to tell people what really happened."

"I guess." Cody looked at Brent's hand, where it lay on the table. Tentatively, he touched it, before saying, "Touch me? Please."

"Are you sure?"

Cody nodded. "I need to know…"

Brent lightly brushed the tips of his fingers over the back of Cody's hand. Cody felt a cold wave of fear, pulling his hand away. "I won't let this rule me anymore," he barely whispered, sliding his hand forward again.

Brent smiled, once again brushing Cody's hand with his fingers. "You can do this," he said confidently.