Page 77 of Flare

He nodded.

Jack’s eyes went wide. “I’ll fucking kill them.”

Beck laid a hand on Jack’s arm and his mouth snapped shut.

“We had a costume fitting this morning, for the school production. Dad was late, picking me up, as usual, and they got me alone. Fucking arseholes. Dad finally turned up just as they’d upended my bag with all my clothes.” He looked up, glassy-eyed. “He... he was so fucking mad, Rhys.”

“Did he get them?” Jack’s eyes blazed anger.

Drew’s gaze flicked to Jack, then back to me, misery etched in every furious tear. He dropped his head and shook it slowly. “He was mad atme. For taking the other clothes. For breaking our... agreement.” He looked up. “I’m not supposed to beobvious.” He winced and made air quotes.

“Oh, Drew, I’m so sorry.” I took another Kleenex and dabbed at his eyes, and Beck’s comforting hand landed on my shoulder.

“He trashed my room and found my packers and a stash of clothes.”

“Did he hit you?” I pressed, because if that fucker had laid a hand on Drew...

“No.” Drew swallowed another sob. “But he and Mum had a huge row. She’s been pretty good mostly. She okayed the hormone blockers even though Dad hated it, and she’s kept him off my back. But she didn’t know I’d started on T and she wasn’t happy. Said I should’ve talked about it, but I knew Dad would never agree.” His hand whipped to his mouth and he made a dash to the small bathroom next to the kitchen.

I reached to stay Jack, who was set to follow. “Give him a minute.”

Beck’s concerned gaze met mine and he rubbed a hand up and down Jack’s back as we listened to Drew’s heaving until it eased. And when Drew returned to the kitchen, wiping his mouth, I motioned him back into the chair and told Jack to get him a glass of water. “Then ask Kip to call Greg.”

Rainbow House was only a couple of blocks away and Greg was at Flare in under ten minutes. He immediately hustled us from the room to talk alone with Drew. They emerged ten minutes later and headed back to Rainbow House, Drew’s face cleaned of blood. But with one eye almost fully closed and a patchwork of bruises blooming on his cheek and jaw, there was no ignoring the beating he’d taken.

Jack stood at the kitchen window staring at the back gate after they left. “He never mentioned anything about his dad or being bullied that bad. He just said he was teased. Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

I sighed. “Do you remember calling him a cocksucker that first day?”

Jack’s scowl deepened but there was a flicker of embarrassment as well. “I apologised for that.”

“Wait. Why didn’t I know about that?” Beck threw a pointed look my way. “You said you’d tell me if anything like that happened.”

I rolled my eyes. “I handled it.”

“That’s not your decis—”

“I asked him not to.” Jack slumped in the nearest chair.

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Beck said sharply, then turned back to me. “He wouldn’t have meant it. Jack wasn’t in a great place back then.”

I recognised protective-parent mode kicking in and sighed. “I know very well, he wasn’t, Beck. And inmystore while Jack’s working forme, if I can,I’llhandle it. I’m not gonna run to you with every tiny thing.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Jack grumbled. “I just thought Drew and I were friends, that’s all.”

“I know. But maybe consider this.” I rested a hand on his shoulder. “If Drew is treated that way by his own father who’s supposed to love him, how easy do you think it is for him to trust a young guy he barely knows. It’s no time for you to have your nose put out of joint. Drew needs your support. Now, I’ve got a show to try and salvage, and you and your uncle need to get going or you’ll miss visiting with your mum. And thanks for this morning. In case I haven’t said it enough, I really appreciate what you did.”

He nodded. “S’okay.”

Beck hesitated, then sighed and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll call you later.”

The minute they left I kicked the table leg and silent screamed. What a godawful day. My designs stolen, a fuckton of work ahead of me, Drew beaten-up, Jack pissed at the world again, and Beck angry that I’d gotten tough with his nephew. And it wasn’t even lunchtime.

When I got to the service desk, the store was empty, bar a familiar spicy smell and my heart plummeted. I loved my mother, but I didn’t need to be rehashing my day again. “Oh god, where is she?”

“Relax. She just dropped off some murtabak and left. Damn that woman can cook.”

“Thank Christ. Help yourself.”

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