Page 41 of Beck

Joey stepped through the door, leaving it open for Beck to follow, which he did. And then he had to lock his knees again so he didn’t hit the floor when he met Kole’s gaze. Despite them both knowing why Kole was there—because Beck had brought Drake into their lives—Kole’s eyes were, as ever, trusting, kind and patient. It made Beck want to howl with the unfairness of it all.

Kole held out his hand. “Come,” he rasped, and Beck almost broke at the pain in those words. Pain, not from emotional hurt, but from physical hurt.

His gaze dropped to Kole’s neck, which was free of clothing and bandages and anything else, and saw the already formed dark bruises marring his perfect skin. His nostrils flared to keep his emotions in check. He had never been this blatantly emotional before. Or had he?

“Come.” Kole’s rasp accompanied his waving fingers, urging him closer, and Beck moved, drawn by the order. “Not…your…fault.”

Beck placed his hand over Kole’s mouth. “Stop talking,” he said, his voice far shakier than he intended.

Kole grabbed his hand and squeezed, and Beck could see the words he wanted to repeat, but no matter what Kole said, itwashis fault. If Drake hadn’t been part of Beck’s life, however short a time, he wouldn’t have focused on Kole. Though why he did was still a mystery to him, but one he intended to figure out. The one redeeming factor was that Drake was in jail, which meant it wastrickier for Beck to get to him, but even harder for Drake to get to Kole.

Kole pointed to the chair beside the bed, and Beck sighed and sat down when Kole wouldn’t let go of his hand. Beck glanced at Joey and Ethan, the two having their arms around each other. Ethan looked wrecked, but he managed a smile when he saw Beck looking.

The room dropped into silence, and eventually, Kole fell asleep. Once he was sure he was gone, Beck slipped his hand free and stood, heading for the door.

“Don’t turn your back on him, Beck,” Ethan said.

He stopped with his hand on the door. “I will always be there if he needs me, but I’m no good for him. He’ll be better without me.”

And with that, he walked out of the room, down the corridors, down the stairs instead of the lift and out through the automatic doors. He barely felt the cold seeping through his thick jumper. He barely registered the puffs of air leaving his mouth as he strode down the street. He barely acknowledged whenever he bumped into someone he hadn’t seen. He just kept walking, his mind a tangle of memories, nightmares and lies.

He finally slowed to a stop, his mind flickering with knowledge of the present, the past receding, and he glanced around.

“Hyde Park,” he murmured.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have been storming through the large, semi-deserted park at that time of night, especially without a coat. He turned in a full circle and got his bearings before slogging his way to the nearest taxi stand. He could’ve called someone, but he didn’t want to talk to anyone. He just wanted to go home and lock himself away. But before he could do that, he had to speak to the police officers who hadarrested Drake, and there was no way the police station would let him do that at that hour of the morning, looking like he did.

When he reached home, he showered under the hottest spray he could, hoping it would bring the feeling back into his body, but that type of cold wasn’t so easily washed away. Instead, he dressed in warmer clothes and rode his bike to the police station, waiting in the car park around the corner until a reasonable hour. He didn’t want to do what he was about to do, but it was the only way to make sure Kole was safe. If that meant he had to break his silence after all this time, he would.

Taking a deep breath, he walked into the station and up to the desk.

“Good morning,” an older man said. “What can I do for you?”

“Is there a time limit on when someone can report a…” He swallowed hard and took another breath. “A rape?”

The man blinked and then shook his head. “No limit at all. Is that what you’d like to do?”

The images, already beginning to bombard him, froze for a second with his indecision, but he straightened his shoulders and looked the man in the eye. “Yes.”

Within seconds, he was taken to a room with comfortable chairs and beige walls and given a cup of coffee he immediately forgot about and told someone would be with him shortly. He settled into a chair and stared at the neutral wall, trying to stem the flood of his past. It wasn’t to be. After all, he was there to bare his soul. Because even if some people didn’t believe men could be raped, Beck was living proof they could. And hopefully, by giving the detectives this new information, Drake would be kept behind bars for a very long time.

The door opened, and two officers entered. “Beck Cavanaugh?” one said.

Beck nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you mind if we sit?”

“Not at all.” He repositioned himself from his slouch.

“I’m Detective Conrad. This is Detective Haynes. Can you tell us about what you want to report?” the second said, and Beck focused on the softer-spoken officer.

Steeling himself, Beck said, “I was raped from the age of eleven by a man you currently have in custody. His name is Drake Price.”

The officers glanced at each other before Haynes spoke. “Are you willing to give us all the information you can? No matter how small?”

“I am. I remember every detail.” His voice cracked on the last word. “I will be upfront and say Drake just attacked someone close to me, but this is not retaliation. Not truly. I want my boyf—my friend to be safe, and if this means I have to talk about what happened to me to ensure Drake stays behind bars, then I will. I’ll tell the world if I have to.”

“Knowing who you are as I do,” Haynes said, “you’ll have no choice about the world finding out. You need to be ready for that.”

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