Sorry for the very late update >.< This should've been up by saturday but yeah, I was going away and didn't have time to proofread the chapter, and then yesterday after I wrote for Waiting For You I didn't have the energy to proofread.

I thank everyone that has voted for this story, it makes me happy to see my old readers voting for this story again :3 It's good to know you didn't forget about my story!

Let me know what you think about the chapter! ^^

Hope you enjoy the chapter,

-> Desyre

Kyle

                Ryan yanked down my already ripped jeans and once again pure terror shot through me when I guessed what he was going to do. I started to struggle, kicking and trying to get out of my bonds but more guys came forward and helped the first to hold me in place. I shivered in fear again. There was just something about having a bunch of guys holding you down that had the power to scare the shit out of you, even more if they were holding you still so that someone could rape you. I heard another belt buckle open and my heart slammed into my chest, beating wildly.

“NO!” I sat up, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

                I looked around frantically trying to understand where I was. I started to calm down when I realized that I was still in my room. I had probably fallen asleep accidentally. I breathed slowly trying to calm down my beating heart, trying to understand that I had been having a nightmare and that it was all in the past. That I never had to live through that again. The first time the guy had been too scared to sue Liam and there hadn’t been enough evidences to tie them to the incident, because Danny’s blood and prints were there and it all got mixed up. But this time was different. Paul was smart. He only knocked them out, thought he made sure that they were out for a long time. And this time there had been evidence enough and Liam and his friends were sent to juvie without so much as a trial.

                I pulled my knees up to my chest and looked around trying to find something else to occupy my mind with. I had been reading the things that I had seen with Paul the day before when I fell asleep. I caressed the back of my head trying to ease the uneasiness I felt and looked around at the mess of papers, books, and notebooks. Out of all my subjects the sciences were the worst for me. Take biology for example. I had been reading for about an hour about glycolysis before I fell asleep. I still didn’t understand a single thing about the process, I didn’t even understand what it was for. I knew it was important I just didn’t understand why. I closed my books and got up stretching carefully, my ribs had been healing little by little but they still bothered me a lot. I went out of my room and went down the stairs to the kitchen. I went to the fridge and grabbed the jug of juice, taking off the lid and drinking from it directly. I drank for a few seconds before wrinkling my nose and putting it back into the fridge. I was never a juice kind of person. I didn’t really know why I even thought that drinking it was a good idea in the first place. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and drank it all in one go. I sighed contentedly and grabbed another bottle before closing the fridge. Water was better, more refreshing and less sweet. I only liked sugar when it came in the form of cake, pie, cookies, or stuff like that. Stuff you made with dough. Juice wasn’t made with dough, and hence, I didn’t like it. I was making my way up the stairs deciding to try understanding biology again when I heard the doorbell ring. I looked at my watch and frowned. He was late.

                I went over to the door wondering why he was late. He was never late. Every day after school he ceremoniously came over to my house to teach me what we had seen today in school, in the few subjects we had together. For the rest he just brought me the notes I needed and I went over them myself. It was really a wonder why he at first had been so aggressive but now was so attentive.

“Hey.” I said as I opened the door without looking at him. “You’re late.”

                I left the door open for him to come in and close after himself. I started going up the stairs and that’s when I noticed his steps sounded weird. They faltered, like he was about to fall.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” He croaked.

                I turned to look at him, he was walking weird and he sounded weird. When I saw him my water bottle hit the floor. I gasped and covered my mouth. What had happened to him?

“Paul…” I whispered.

“It’s nothing.” He said pushing past me.

                Nothing? I stood there frozen for a few minutes before I turned and followed him up the stairs. Who could he say it was nothing when he had a split lip, a swollen nose, and a black eye?!

“What do you mean it’s nothing?!” I yelled when we reached my room.

“I said it’s nothing.” He whispered brokenly.

                I felt my heart break in my chest and I wanted nothing more than to punch whoever it was that did this to him. I got closer to him, putting my hand on his arm.

“Paul, it’s not nothing. What happened to you? Who did this to you?” I asked soothingly, trying to get him to tell me.

“It’s…” Paul started to say but he looked at my door and went back to looking at his feet. “It’s nothing.”

                I sighed and gently started pushing him towards my en-suite bathroom.

“Let me just clean you up then.” I said as we entered my bathroom and I closed that door too.

                I went to my cabinet and got out the peroxide, the disinfectant, and cotton. I turned and found him sitting on my toilet, looking at his hands with a lost look. I sighed again and went over to where he was. I pulled a stool and sat in front of him. I opened the peroxide and soaked a cotton with it, then turned to him and grabbed his chin making him look at me as I cleaned up his face.

“You can tell me what happened, my mom isn’t home and she can’t hear us in here.” I said after a while of silence.

                Paul who had been looking at me until then looked away and said nothing. I put down the cotton and stared at him.

“Look at me.” I said firmly.

                Paul didn’t even move or made any sign that he had heard me.

“Paul, look at me.” I said again.

                Paul sighed and closed his eyes, then he opened them and his blue-green eyes rested on mine. I stared into his eyes for a moment, lost in the sadness I saw there.

“Who did this to you?” I asked.

                He searched my eyes before I saw them fill with tears.

“My dad.” He whispered.

                My eyes widened and I gasped. His dad did this to him? The person he lived with? The one he looked up to?

“W-why?” I stuttered.

“Because of Nate.” He whispered still looking at me.

                I frowned, not understanding what Nate had to do with this.

“I… I know Nate thinks that I’m an asshole and that I suck up to my dad because I really think he’s just the best thing in the world but it’s not like that. He’s a bad person Kyle, he is bad. Really bad. He has done… things. I only do what he wants me to do because I’m afraid of what he’ll do if I don’t. And well, I have to say that I now have a proven reason to be afraid of him. I stood up to him today. Told him I didn’t want to do something and this is the result.” He finished bitterly.

                I could only stare at him in wonder. Just what kind of human was Nate’s and Paul’s dad? How could the government let such a human being be a parent when he was like this?

“What did he do to you?” I found myself asking.

                I somehow knew that what I was seeing was nothing compared to what that baggy sweater and jeans were hiding. Paul didn’t say anything, he just took off his sweater and let it fall down next to him. Oh God. I felt sick to my stomach when I saw the swollen and bloody bruises around Paul’s torso. Belt buckles. He had belt buckle prints all over his skin. What type of human being could do this to his son? Who in his right mind hit someone with a belt buckle? Something that could kill people instantly if it hit a wrong spot.

“You have to go to the hospital.” I said getting up and trying to pull him up with me.

“No!” He yelled grabbing my arm. “I can’t do that, I would need to use my dad’s social security number and then he’ll find out that I went there and when I get home he’ll hit me again.”

“Then you’ll use my mom’s or something!” I yelled. “I don’t care! You need to go to the hospital what if he broke something inside of you? What if you have internal hemorrhages?!”

                Paul looked at me for a second.

“We argued about Nate.” He said.

“Paul what are you…?” I started to say but he cut me off.

“He wanted me to join the swimming team because Nate joined the swimming team. He wanted me to bully Nate or something of the sort, he wanted me to prove that I was better than him in anything he did. I didn’t want to. I’m not a good swimmer. I’m too broad to be a swimmer. And I would only make a fool out of myself, and end up disappointing my father when Nate proved to be better. Plus I don’t like messing with Nate. I feel like I’ve already done enough to him, I broke his family, I got him kicked out of his own house, and now I’ll ruin the one thing that he enjoys? So I refused and said that I wanted to join the football team again. I have always been good at football, it seems simpler in my mind. But my dad kept telling me that I had to join the swimming team and I kept trying to explain why I couldn’t. Finally he yelled at me and I yelled back and he hit me then, punched me right in the nose. He asked me who I thought I was and why I thought I could talk back to him. He had created me, he was the one that gave me life. Without him I’d probably be dead by now. When he finished beating me up he said that he didn’t want to see my face for a while, so I went to my room changed and came back here.” Paul finished in a broken whisper.

                I again could only stare at him. Paul cared about Nate. He stood up to protect Nate. Well, to protect Nate and himself, but Nate was in his mind.

“You must think I’m stupid, to go through this for a guy who hates my guts.” He said laughing humorlessly, then he winced and held his side.

                That’s when I noticed I still had to treat his bruises. I thought about how in the world I was going to treat so many bruises when he had probably more under his baggy jeans. I need to put ice on all of them but I didn’t think I had ice enough for all of them. Then and idea started forming in the back of my head.

“Stay here.” I said as I got up and ran out of my bathroom, out of my room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

                I grabbed a BIG bowl and started filling it with all the ice I could find in my house. Luckily my fridge was one of those that had a little dispenser of ice and water in the door. I managed to fill the bowl with the ice and ran back to the bathroom. I went in to see Paul in the same place where I had left him.

“Undress.” I ordered as I made my way to the tub and started filling it with cold water.

“What?” Paul sputtered.

“Undress.” I said turning to look at him. “Take off your clothes. Get naked. Whatever you like, just do it.”

“Why?” He asked again.

“Would you just do it?!” I asked getting annoyed with all his questions.

                I heard the rustle of clothes falling to the ground and thought that maybe he had finally listened to me. I stopped the flow of water once the tub had filled to the middle. I then dumped the ice into the water and stood up. I was going to need more ice.

“Kyle, what the fuck are you doing?” Paul asked from somewhere behind me.

“Get inside.” I said, getting up and turning towards the door.

“What? No way, that thing is freezing!” Paul protested.

“Exactly.” I said grabbing the door knob. “It’s for your bruises. Get inside and don’t come out. I’m going to run to the convenient store that’s a block away from here and buy more ice. I’ll be right back but just in case I’m going to lock the door to my room. Though, don’t worry, my mom is working the night shift in the hospital today, she won’t be back ‘til tomorrow.”

                I was about to leave when I remembered something.

“And I don’t think that you’re stupid for doing what you did, I think it was brave.”

                I closed the door behind me and locked the door of my room making sure I had the key before leaving the house. I ran to the store and bought two big bags of ice and carried them all the way back. By the time I got to my house my arms were numb from the cold and my ribs were protesting. I opened the door and carried the bags in before closing it again. Then I grabbed them again and brought them up the stairs. I opened the door of my room and carried the bags into the bathroom. Paul was inside the tub, looking pale, which could’ve been from the cold, or could’ve been because he was in pain. I went over to the tub and cut open the first bag, dumping the ice into the tub, then repeated the process with the second bag. Paul winced again and I thought again that maybe he should go to the hospital.

“Thank you.” He gritted out.

                I thought that I couldn’t do much more for him right now, so I sighed and was about to step out of the bathroom when Paul talked again.

“I have always been jealous of Nate.” He said.

                I turned again and stared at him confused. Why did he envy Nate? Nate had nothing apart from Claire, he barely even had a mom.

“I visited him a few times with my dad, he always looked so free. He could play wherever he wanted, whatever he wanted, he could talk to whoever he wanted, and he could practically do whatever he wanted. Me on the other side. I couldn’t play games because dad thought that was for kids even if I was a kid back then, I could only talk to the friends my dad approved of, I could only do whatever my dad wanted me to do. I envied his freedom so much. I envied that he didn’t have to deal with dad like I did, I envied that his mom seemed to love him, while my dad seemed to hate me.”

                I grabbed the stool and sat down in front of the tub.

“Why did you put up with it?” I asked.

“It was that or nothing Kyle. It was that or death for me.” He said staring off into the distance.

“What do you mean death?” I whispered.

                Paul closed his eyes and sighed.

“I’m… I’m a… I’m and inter-racial baby.” Paul said so low it was barely a whisper.

                I gasped and stared at him. How? How could this be? The government kept a close eye on us, checked every human being of the population weekly to ensure that we all took the pill like it was mandatory of us. How did the government not notice that its population went up by one without their approval?

“How?” It was all I could ask.

“I don’t really know. My dad never told me clearly. He just said that the pills could be counteracted and that I was the proof. He said that my mom was a hooker who died while giving birth to me, I can imagine why if the government didn’t know about me. The facilities to give birth are strictly controlled by the government so she of course couldn’t go there. I don’t know how my dad explained why he had a child that wasn’t registered in the books of the government, nor how he explained how he found me, I just know that he adopted me, which is why I’m still alive. That and the fact that he hasn’t told anyone the truth, not yet at least. He has threatened me with telling the government about me so many times I lost count. I can’t do anything about it Kyle. I can only do as he wants me to.” Paul finished in a broken whisper.

                It was really a lot to take in. How could this happen? The pills can be counteracted? How? I mean if they could be counteracted wouldn’t the government know about it? And how did Paul’s dad manage to slip Paul by as if it was nothing? Why was Paul a wolf when Paul’s dad was a cheetah? Why wasn’t he like, a mix between a cheetah and a wolf instead of just a wolf? Why did Paul’s dad keep him if he was going to keep on threatening to hand Paul over to the government?

“I don’t hate Nate, but he hates me and what can I do if he just does? I mean I have tried to patch things up with him over and over again but he just keeps on hating me. What can I do if nothing I can ever do or say will give him back his family?” Paul whispered.

“Sometimes no matter what you do people just don’t like you.” I answered remembering my mom’s latest boyfriend.

                Paul turned to look at me, and he just kind of stared for a few moments, not saying anything.

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.” He said finally.

“I am.” I said simply. “My dad died a long time ago, when I was just a kid. He died in a car accident, and one thing I do remember is that my mom was devastated. I don’t really remember him or his face, I just have vague memories about some man holding me when I scratched my knee, taking me to parks, sleeping with me at night, but I don’t remember his face. My mom took a few years to get over him and then started dating. Somehow she always ended up picking guys that were jerks. Each and every one of them went away as they came along, one day they were here the next they weren’t and new guy was in their place. Of course, that’s how it seemed to me when I was a kid. When you’re a kid you don’t feel time flowing by you, you just know how to have fun. There were a few that stayed longer than others but they went away all the same. There is one other thing they all had in common, they never liked me. I don’t know why, I guess I’m just not likeable. When they went away I was always there to comfort my mom when she cried and said that she would always be alone in the world and asked my dad why he left her here to suffer alone. The last guy though, he was a real charmer.” I said sarcastically.

“He was one of those guys that got together with rich women so he could leech off of them, and I told my mother so but she said she was in love. She was always in love. The guy would yell at my mother and they would start to argue and then the guy would leave saying he didn’t want to see her face for a while. He’d come back in late smelling of booze and cigarettes, and of women’s cologne. And my mom would ignore it and take him back. And then a month later the same thing would happen and so on. Somehow I was always the source of their arguments, he kept on saying that I was a weakling and a fag, and that I was a disappointment to the whole raze, not just to him. He didn’t know that I was gay, I think he just used it as an insult but even now when I think of him ever knowing that I was gay my heart starts beating wildly in my chest. It’s kind of like you and your father, just that I was scared of telling him I was gay, but of nothing else. Gladly my mom dumped him when he went a little too far and started an argument in the middle of the hospital.” I finished.

                Paul stayed silent for a while, and I didn’t offer conversation either. I kind of got the feeling that he was thinking about everything I had said.

“How did you do it?” He asked finally.

“Do what?” I asked looking at him.

“Go on with your life knowing that you were a disappointment to all of your mom’s boyfriends?” He asked silently.

                I thought about it for a moment. It’s not like it had never mattered, I used to go to sleep crying whenever I heard one of them say something about me, but then I just stopped caring. I thought about how I managed to do that that before answering.

“I just realized that if they didn’t love me just the way I was then they didn’t love me at all.” I answered truthfully. “I mean take my mom, she has always loved me just how I am, not matter if I’m weak, nor if I talk funny, or if I’m not good at any sport, or any of that stuff. She’s just happy to have me. I think parents’ love is unconditional, like there’s nothing you can do to make them stop loving you, they may get angry, and ground you and yell at you, but in the end they love you all the same.”

                I turned and looked directly at Paul then, who had stopped staring off into space and had turned to look at me again.

“I think if your dad doesn’t love you like you are then he doesn’t love you at all and you doing whatever he wants just to make him love you is wrong. You should stand up to him and face the consequences no matter what they are.” I said.

“W-what if he turns me in?” Paul whispered looking into my eyes and I could see a fear that ran deeper than I had thought. A fear that had been growing for years.

“He can’t turn you in, if he does, he goes down too. Or do you think the government will forgive a guy that played them for fools?” I asked, looking into his eyes and trying to convey my security to him.

                Paul kept on looking into my eyes for a while without saying anything and then he sighed, turning back to stare into space.

“I guess you’re right.” He said after a while. “It’s just hard.”

“Life is always hard.” I said getting up and going to the bathroom door. “You should probably step out, the cold isn’t good to the body for long periods of time.”

                I stepped out and ran a hand through my hair. Why did I just open myself up to this guy? Why did I tell him all that? I had never talked about that stuff. Nobody knew except for Danny. It just had felt like the right thing to do, like maybe my story would help him out with his problems. I swallowed as my throat closed up. Why was I feeling like this towards him? I knew I liked him but this… this was a more than like. This was worry, this was care. I sighed and went over to my bed, sitting on the edge and running a hand through my hair again. Alright, so maybe I more than like him but why? He was straight, and a jock at that, a cocky, arrogant jock… who bared his soul to me just a few seconds ago. A jock who didn’t really want to be a jock. And a wolf. What was it with me and guys from other razes? I chuckled and right then I heard the door of the bathroom close. Paul stood there, wearing his baggy sweater and his baggy jeans again.

“What was so funny?” He asked as he walked slowly to the desk chair that he always sat on.

“Oh nothing, I just thought that I had been reading about glycolysis for an hour and had yet to understand the first word.” I said coming up with the first excuse that crossed my mind.

                Paul chuckled a little, careful with his bruises and got closer to my bed.

“It’s easy.” He said and when he saw my skeptical look he chuckled again. “No really. Look…”

                And just like that he forgot his weak moment and we got down to studying. He explained glycolysis to me, again, and then we went on, studying what we’d seen today in school. If there was something I had to thank him for was the fact that he eased me into the classes. He started out with the simplest things we had seen and worked his way to the more complicated stuff, while teachers just taught everything all at once. He had a distant look on his face like he was miles away and I sometimes had to call him a few times or shake him to get him to come back. He left that day still with the distant look but decidedly better than he had been before. I watched as he left and then closed the door, feeling somehow really tired. I went up the stairs and into my room dropping on the bed and then wincing when I again felt my ribs protest. I raised my shirt and stared at the angry bruises around my ribs. I poked them and winced when pain shot through my body. I sighed and arranged my shirt again. On top of everything I had hurt myself for him. I got under the covers and sank in the bed.

                It… it wasn’t… love… right?