To Learn to Let Go | ✔

Chapter 29

"Dad, I-I can explain!" Trent shouted as his dad stomped over to us.

"Explain what? Unless you're going to tell me I didn't just see you in bed with another boy I don't want to fucking hear it!" Mr. Rodriguez shouted as he balled his fist, swinging at Trent but just narrowly missing and falling over from the momentum. He was drunk.

"Dad, you're drunk! Can we talk about this in the morning? What are you even doing home?" I looked at the clock on Trent's nightstand, it was 3 am. His dad wasn't supposed to be home for a while.

"It wasn't busy, there were two doctors, I wasn't needed. So I went for some drinks before coming home to find you sleeping with another boy. God your whore mother really fucked you up," he slurred.

"Don't say that." Trent spat.

"How else do you explain this? My son, a fucking fairy?" I was still cowering behind Trent, who was shaking with rage rather than fear as his father kept on yelling. I was just praying for this to be over soon.

"Look, dad can we talk about this later? Maybe when you're sober?"

"No! What you can do is take your faggy boyfriend and get the hell out of my house!"

"Dad," Trent pleaded.

"I said out!"

"T-Trent come on," I stuttered.

"You shut your mouth, boy!" His father shouted at me, causing me to whimper as I shrunk behind Trent.

"Don't fucking talk to him!" Trent shouted, standing up and squaring up to his father. His father just laughed in his face and shoved him away.

"I'll talk to whoever I want to in my damn house, especially unwanted guests. Now you get this queer out of my house." He moved towards where I was still sitting on the bed, as I backed up as far as I could to try to get away from him. I was in the corner, practically sitting on Trent's nightstand, hands covering my face to protect myself from whatever his father was about to.

"Don't touch him!" Trent shouted and I hear a fist collide with a face. There was a scuffle and I just kept my eyes shut tight, afraid to look and see Trent getting beat. After a few minutes the noises stopped, and I was quietly sniffling to myself, still afraid to look.

"Grayson, baby," Trent whispered, I looked up and he was in front of me, a black eye forming and busted lip. "Come on grab your bag, let's go," He grabbed my hand and I followed him up. He grabbed a sweatshirt and some shoes, and I grabbed my stuff before we headed out of his room. I glanced back and saw his dad lying on the floor unconscious.

"Trent, is he?"

"He'll be fine, he was so drunk he just passed out after a couple of hits." We ran out of the house and to his truck. Trent threw on his hoodie and shoes as we walked. He handed me his phone as he started driving, "can you call Brayden and ask if we can go to his place?"

"I'm sure we can go to my house my parents won't-"

"Please, no. I don't want your parents to know about this," he begged.

"But Trent!"

"Grayson, if your parents find out they're going to call the cops. I'm 18 in a week, then I can leave."

"Where will you go? With what money?"

"I have a decent amount of savings, my mom left whatever she had to me in her will, and my dad's been putting money in an account for me for years, it was supposed to be for college. I'm going to move in with Brayden, we've already worked this out."