Alone, No More (Harringrove)

Chapter 20//Realization

TW:mentions of abuse, I'm sorry :(

Billy opened the front door and walked into his house in some sort of daze. Without Steve close to him, he felt out of control, like a forest fire no one could kill. He wasn't worried about his father, this time, as he was well within curfew and he had returned Max earlier on.

He was in too much of a daze to care much anyway. The smell of Steve's shampoo still lingered on his jacket, preventing any worry to begin eating away at him, as if it was his own personal brand of ecstasy; and he was high as fuck.

When he saw his father sitting in the living room with a beer in hand, he thought nothing of it, in fact a beer sounded like something he could use at the moment. But when he saw who else was in the living room, seated across from his father watching him as if he were an extinct animal brought back to life,  both his stomach and his high dropped. His jaw clamped shut around his tongue which had grown eight sized in his mouth.

"Hey Bill, you remember Mr. Wilson, right?" his father asked, pointing the tip of the beer bottle towards the other man nonchalantly.

Billy ground his molars together, focusing on inhaling and exhaling normally in hopes of keeping himself rooted in place.

He remember the guy, alright. 

He remembered coming home when he was younger and finding the guy watching his mum-even worse, his sister-with this devious glint to his ugly eyes. And while his mind fought to forget, his body remembered being Riley Wilson's personal punching bag. 

He remembered the ambulance arriving hours after Mr. Wilson had broken his 11 year old body, how he was terrified to admit to the medical staff that it was a grown adult who had hurt him, how they clearly didn't believe his cover up of it happening at school. He recalled wanting to cry his eyes out and find solace in the people who patched him up, how they subtly begged him to tell the truth; to out his vile abuser. 

But his father had already done the background work of threatening his son not to tell a soul. 

"Wouldn't want poor Maxine to pay the price for your sins, right boy?"

"Oh, bah, call me Riley," the ugly man said, baring his nicotine-stained teeth in some predator-like fashion. Eliciting a shiver of fear down Billy's spine.

He was scared, even though he was no longer that weak little boy. He knew he could take Riley on if need be, and he so wanted and excuse to bash his head in, make the man feel the pain he'd felt all those years ago. However, with his father involved and clearly never on his son's side, he would surely lose against the two. 

And he needed to be all in one piece, if not just for Steve's sake. So, instead of pouncing on Riley with the intent to kill, he narrowed his eyes into a venomous glare and clenched his fists at his side. Willing every ounce of his self-control front and center. 

Mr. Wilson's smile spread further, Cheshire-like, amused that he still clearly held power over the Hargrove boy. But Billy was stubborn, a fatal-flaw if he was honest with himself, and did not cower.

He did, however, give into his nervous curiosity and steal a quick glance in the direction of Max's room. The anxiousness subsided only slightly when he found the door closed and the sound of trashy pop music escaping from gap between the door and the hardwood flooring. He only realized his mistake of letting his concerns blatant, when he snapped his gaze back to Riley, who somehow had become further entertained. 

Billy involuntarily swallowed the lump in his throat, quite aware that it only fuelled Riley's fire, and worked to ignore the sweat that had began to bead on his back.