Page 33 of Every Hidden Truth

“It’s nothing, Silas. I’ve had worse.”

His nonchalance irritated me, and he sighed in defeat at my glare.

Lifting the hem of his shirt, he dragged it high enough to reveal his dusky nipples ringed with sparse hair. Purple and blue splotches covered the side of his torso, and my self-loathing threatened to drown me.

“Jesus, Ben.” I touched his torso lightly, and the skin trembled. He didn’t make a sound, but I withdrew all the same. “Here, this might help.”

He gritted his teeth as I nestled the bag of green beans over the darkest area below his ribs. I blew a frustrated breath through my nose. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Seriously?” His shirt fell, catching on the wet plastic, and his hand circled my forearm. “After what he said—”

“What did you expect him to say? He was goading you, you idiot! He would have insinuated worse just to get a rise out of you.” I shook off his grip as his discomfort melted into bafflement. “Did you get suspended?”

“Of course I didn’t get suspended. McKinney would do anything to keep his star wrestlers out of trouble, even cover up a fight. If there was no fight, then there are no consequences.”

“And your coach?”

Ben shifted, grinding his teeth. “He yelled at us and gave us detention with him for next week, which pretty much means we’re gonna be stuck at practice longer. It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?” I lifted the bag of vegetables off his side pointedly. “This looks like a big deal, Ben. Shit, you could have a broken rib or something. I should take you to the hospital.”

Dropping the beans onto his torso, I rose to fetch my keys, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Silas, stop! I don’t need to go to the hospital. Just—” He finagled me back onto the couch. “Just sit down.”

“You could have internal bleeding!”

“I don’t. I’ll be fine.” Capturing my hand, he brought it to his lips and pecked my palm. “Trust me, I know what a broken rib feels like, and this isn’t it.”

The statement sobered the atmosphere further, and I caressed his swollen face gently. “Are you a secret street fighter or something?”

With a grimace, he dropped his eyes and adjusted the frozen veggies. “Not exactly, but I’ve been in my fair share of fights.”

His attempt to change positions ended in a hiss, and I propped him up with a few couch pillows to ease his discomfort. “You don’t seem like the fighting type.” A golden brow arched, and I patted his biceps. “I mean, sure you did a great job of beating Boyt’s face in, but you’re usually so… nice.”

“I have my moments.” He studied his hands in shame.

I drew circles on the back of his wrist as I waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, I prompted, “Oh, yeah? Were you the chivalrous knight of the Sacramento school district?”

Pulling away from my touch, his face hardened. “Not exactly. But I sent a kid to the hospital once. It’s why I got expelled and had to repeat sophomore year.”

That wasn’t what I expected. “Holy shit, are you serious?”

He nodded, his eyes jumping around the room, unable to meet my gaze. “Yeah, it was the worst fight I ever got in. He was talking shit, and I… I just lost it. I don’t even remember most of it. It’s like I blacked out. I came to when two teachers pulled me off of his unconscious body.

“I was a minor, but it’s still a miracle his parents didn’t take me to court.” He swallowed hard, shifting the bag of vegetables on his side. “But I was a poor kid with a loser dad and a dead mom, so…”

Warily, he studied me from the corner of his eye, and I took his hand in mine. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“I beat a kid so hard he went to the hospital, and you’re sorry forme?”

With a shrug, I nodded and traced the broken skin of his knuckles. “Hurt people hurt people. You’d lost your mom, and your dad…” I swallowed thickly. “Plus, I assume that kid said some pretty messed up shit to piss you off enough to do that. So he probably deserved it.”

Chuckling without humor, he cupped my chin, and his thumb traced my bottom lip. “Violence shouldn’t be the answer, even when people deserve it. The world’s ugly enough.”

I puckered my lips against the pad of his thumb, and his mouth tipped at the corners. “Sometimes we need ugly.”

He looked away, voice cracking as he said, “I try not to be that person anymore. I never want to be my dad.”

And God, that cracked me down the middle.

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