Country boys aren't meant to love [BxB]

Devil's Right Hand

"And how do you plead to the assault of one Alexander Campbell, Mr. Brahm?" Asked the judge.

"Not guilty."

"And why would that be?"

"Because he came after me!" Nash slammed his fists on the table, the chains wrapped around his wrists jangling as he did so.

"Boy, you better not make a ruckus. The sooner I get back home, the better." Nash's dad whispered from behind angrily.

Nash's heart broke hearing the words from him dad. His own father, of all people. He already had abandoned him, which was hurt enough. This was just icing on the cake.

Nash nodded, and looked back up at the judge.

"Well, we have a few firsthand accounts of your violent outbursts, Mr. Brahm. So, excuse me if I'm untrusting of your words." The judge said, looking at Nash with a dissapointed expression.

"I'm sorry," Nash said, and he looked back at his father, then the judge. "I'm sorry that this town is full of no-good pricks that abandon their kids with a sick mama that ain't well off enough to take care of him! I'm sorry, that I can't just like who I do, without becoming a target for the relentless fucking attacks! I'm sick of this goddamn town! So fuck it, throw me in jail! I'D BE GLAD TO GET AWAY!" Nash finished his statement, his voice shaking by the end.

"We will be taking a recess. Mr. and Mrs. Brahm, please control your son."

"THAT HEATHEN IS NOT MY SON!"

And that is all it took before Nash was crying.

"I see. Do you surrender him and your rights as his father to the state?"

"We do!" Nash's stepmother spoke up.

Nash turned around, rage and shock covered his normally stoic face.

"YOU BITCH!" Nash was trying to get at his father, to hurt him, in some way.

I guess you could say Mr. Brahm thanked his lucky stars that there were handcuffs on his only son.

"Well then, this court proceeding is over," The judge banged his gavel twice, before continuing to speak, "Thank you for your time."

Nash was walked back to the holding cells and that was where he sat till the next morning, when a social worker was called down to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, Mr. Brahm," was all she got out before Nash interrupted her. "Nash. My name is Nash." He said sharply, not looking at the social worker as he spoke.

"Well... Nash. I'm here to take you to your new home!" She faked happiness, looking at him with a smile.

Nash sat up and finally looked at her, "What? An orphanage for pricks like me?" He let out a small laugh.

"No. I'm going to be taking you to an institute for troubled boys."

"So an abusive hell hole."

"No, it's a very warm and welcoming place! You'll make friends quickly, I assure you."

"Friends are pointless."

She sighed, and stood up, clapping her hands onto her thighs as she did so. "Well then, do you have anything you'd like to grab from your home before we go?"

"Yes, actually." Nash gave her a smile and the two of them walked out of the cell together.

She signed him out of the courthouse, and he silently followed her to her car. He got in the passenger seat, and she asked for directions to his house.

Nash gave them, and within a few minutes, they were idling in the driveway.

"So, Nash... I understand it may be hard for you to go back inside, after your mother's death, so, I'm going to be going inside with you."

"Whatever." Nash said, and then he got out of the car. He stalked up to the front door, and carefully pulled it open.

He had to stop himself from calling out for his mom, like he did everytime he arrived back home.

The social worker was right behind him, and Nash went right to his room, not looking at the imprint on the couch from where his mother laid when she died.

He emptied out his school bag, which only had a few things in it anyways, and he started grabbing things.

"Where's your bathroom?" Asked the social worker.

Nash nodded down the hall, "Next door on your left."

When she was gone, and he heard the door close, Nash quickly finished packing the most important things, and some clothes. He unlocked his bedroom window and quietly pushed it open. He dropped his bag through, and then he followed suit. Nash quickly closed the window, and started running.

Where? He didn't know.