“Jaxon…why? Why did he do that to me? Why me?”
Fuck, he’s talking about Perry. Bile rises in my throat just thinking about what Wesley went through. Even if I could imagine what happened to him, I would never be able to understand exactly what was done to him and how he even survived.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry. You’re safe, okay? You’ll always be safe with me.”
Finding out that he was not only raped, but he was taken advantage of repeatedly for close to a year wrecked me so badly that I dropped into a deep depression. I could have helped him long before any of that happened if I had talked to Mom the first time he came over withbruises.
It took months of therapy to untangle those feelings and even longer to come to terms with the fact that I did what I thought was right at the time and would have done things differently had I known.
Wes cries more, tucking himself closer to me, practically sitting on my lap. I don’t want to let him go.
I’m not sure how long we sit there, but after a while, Wesley’s sobs turn to hiccups, then he breathes out a long exhale. “I’m sorry I lost it like that. It was either that or go get some booze.”
“No need to apologize. I’ll always be here when you need me.” I pause then delicately ask, “You were thinking about using?”
He nods. “I almost did. There’s a gas station between here and Suzette’s house. I had to force myself to run past it.” He forces a chuckle. “It’s been weeks since I’ve worked out, so my legs are a little wobbly.”
“It’s okay.” I pull back so I can look at him. “I’m proud of you. That took a lot of courage, you know?”
He breathes a humorless laugh. “Yeah, then I come here and knocked on your window like we were still teenagers.”
I sigh and wrap my arms more snugly around him. “You can knock on my window anytime you’d like. Though, you could also call me,” I say, trying my hand at some levity.
He chuckles like he means it this time. “I don’t have your number, or I would have.”
Wesley pulls away from me and sits on his butt, pulling his knees to his chest. I reach forward and push his hair back from his forehead. “What happened, Wes? If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”
I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows roughly. A few tears escape his eyes, and he wipes at them quickly. “I went to that house and something…the first time he….everything came crashing back. All of it. The sights, the smells, the sounds. And…I couldn’t take it.” He looks up at me, his brown eyes full of grief and pain from his past. “I remembered when I was going through shit before I moved, and I would always come here. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind.” He curses. “I should have called my sponsor.”
“Do you want to now?”
He pats his pockets and shakes his head. “I left my phone at home. I didn’t have plans to go to that house, but something compelled me to, and I left before I could go back for it.”
“You wanna use my phone?”
“No. I don’t know his number by heart anyway.” He scoffs. “And I can’t take your number before I go.”
“It’s okay. You can give me yours before you leave, and I’ll text you, so you’ll have mine.”
In a low voice, Wesley says, “You saved me, you know?” He peeks at me through the hair that’s covering his forehead. “You and Mr. and Mrs. Collins. I know I hurt you in the past when I said you broke my trust, and I’ll work at earning your forgiveness until the day I die. I just don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate what you all did for me.”
“I wish I’d done more.”
“You did more than my egg donor.” He silent for a few beats, then says, “Before my dad came for me, I hadn’t seen him in a long time. I’m not sure how they got in touch with him to get me so quickly, but only about ten hours after I was taken to the hospital, they had him located, and he took me away from this hellhole. I got to spend the last years of his life with him. He died before we got signed, but he was proud of me.”
“How did he die, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Heart attack. He held on for a few weeks in the hospital, but the damage to his heart was too extensive. I got to see him before he…before he passed.”
I look at him, the haggardness that crosses his face, his puffy eyes, the downturn of his lips, the defeated set of his shoulders. He’s worn out.
Standing, I hold my hand out to him and say, “Come on. Let me show you something.”
Wesley stares at my hand for a few beats, then takes it, allowing me to heave him to his feet. I wrap him in my arms again, pulling him close as I whisper, “You’re okay as long as I’m here.”
He lets out a shuddering breath and nods against my shoulder. “Thank you. Did I wake you?”
I start to lie and tell him that I was already up, but I don’t want to tell even the smallest of falsehoods. “Yeah, but it’s okay. I’ll always wake up when you need me.”
