Book Excerpt
Chapter 5
Rick
I’d never met anyone like Jessica! We seemed to hit if off from that first day
we met despite my inability to communicate with her that morning and while
Kevin kept me busy hanging out with the guys, every spare moment I had I found
myself wanting to text or talk to her.
It was mind blowing when she leaned in to kiss me at Kevin’s party. I
would’ve never had the balls to make the first move with her; she was just so
far out of my league.
I couldn’t help but think
this over and over in the days following. Not only did she kiss me, it turned
into a full make out sessions. It was all over school, she was the ‘it’ girl,
the all the guys wanted her and she’d picked me. Not even Kevin could kill my
good mood.
Several days after the party,
I came home to my dad pacing in the front room. I didn’t like him home so
early. But I didn’t spare him much
thought because I was thinking of Jessica.
I was remembering how she had tasted sweet and how as I kissed her in Kevin’s
basement, everyone had been watching.
She even let me go up her shirt a little before she stopped me. It was
the furthest I’d ever gone. I thought I
might be in love with her.
“What is this?” My dad’s
voice ripped into my daydreams. I looked
at him for a split second before wandering to the guitar case sitting in the
middle of the room. I bit down on my
lip, not trusting myself to keep my mouth shut.
“I found this in your closet.”
I wanted to ask what he was doing
in my room but simply stared at him. My
instincts told me not to push him.
“We went through all this in California. You’re not to play this. Get rid of it.”
“No.” I took a deep breath.
“I’m not playing anymore, but I’m not getting rid of it.”
“It’s a distraction. I won’t
have you out there wasting time and money on some childish dream to be a rock
star. If you won’t get rid of it, I will.” As he reached for it, I lunged and
grabbed it.
“It reminds me of him.” I
said without thinking.
“Of who? Of him? Oh no, he had nothing to do with this.”
“Yeah he did. He believed in
me. I don’t care what you say, Jason loved me, he gave this to me and it’s all
I have left of him.”
“I told you never to say his
name to me.” I ignored him, wanting to hurt him like I was hurting.
“He always helped me hide it
from you. I may not play now, but one day I will and I won’t let you take that
from me.”
“What do you mean he helped
you?”
“I mean he helped me get to
guitar lessons and he hid my guitar in his room.”
“Liar, he did not. Stop
talking about him that way.”
“Jason loved me and supported
me and he lied to you to protect me.”
“He’d never lie to me.” He
screamed at me.
“It was all his idea to keep
it hidden from you. Yeah, you’re poster child of a son came up with the idea to
lie to you to help me. He chose me over you.”
“The hell he did!” he
yelled.
“He
loved me…”
“You just don’t get it do you?” He screamed at
me. “I should’ve been you!” He took
several steps towards me. Panic screamed at me to run but he was too quick. The
back of his fist slammed against my face and I stumbled and fell into the
Christmas tree. Pain started to spiral from the spot he connected with, my
vision swirled as the tree crashed to the floor. I wondered why I had even put
the stupid thing up. I tried to scramble away from him but got tangled in the
tree limbs and lights. I felt the glass of an ornament slice and burn into my
hand as I crushed it into the carpet. My
stomach tightened in knots as he reached for me and yanked me to a standing
position, instantly ripping me from the prison of the tree.
I struggled to get away from
him. I somehow managed to fight my way out of his grasp and ran towards the
stairs. I made it half way up before he
caught up to me and I felt the carpet burn my knees as we crashed to the
floor. I was able to kick free and half
crawled half ran the rest of the way to my room. He was right behind me and
pushed me just as I tried to shut the door. His fists were flying at my face as
I slammed sideways into the door, arching my back from the pain. I saw blood
and a tooth fly from my mouth and was fixated as it landed. I lost my focus
when his knuckles caught under my chin, cranking my neck backwards.
I landed hard on my back and
rolled over to my side, curling into a ball and covering my face as he slammed
his dress shoe into my stomach. I watched as the tiny white scuffmarks flew
towards my face. Then I felt his foot crack something in my body from behind
and I wondered briefly how I’d ended up facing the other direction. At one point, I caught a glimpse of his face
and couldn’t quite understand why he had tears falling wildly from his eyes. I
thought I’d see anger or hate, but devastation just didn’t fit with the pain my
body was feeling at his hands.
He
took several steps back when he saw me looking at him and then turned and ran
from my room. I heard him leave the house and stared blankly at the door he’d
run out of. The world spun around
me. I could taste the blood running from
my nose into my mouth. I tried to focus
my eyes but everything was so blurry from my tears and it
made me sick to try. I wondered when I’d
started crying. I heard something behind me and braced myself for another
assault.
“Saint Ricky?” I heard a
familiar voice. “What happened?” It was Kevin.
This was so not what I needed, I thought. “I came to tell you… I mean I
forgot…I came in your window to tell you….fuck” He trailed off. I’d never heard
him clamor for words before.
“Go away.” I forced out in a
breath, realizing at once that I had broken ribs. I didn’t know how to explain
things to him. I flinched as he placed a
hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t move.” He commanded.
Not threatening, but still Kevin. I heard him leave my room quietly. He
returned moments later. “Now come here.” He said kneeling down next to me. I
wanted to crawl under my bed and hide from him, from my dad. But his voice was
almost hypnotic to me and I found myself obeying his calm commands. I attempted
to sit up and cried out before I could stop myself. Slowly he took my arm and wrapped it around
his neck. He waited for a second to let me get use to the position then said,
“Now try” and I did.
I took a deep breath and
braced myself for the pain as I used his body to lean against. I gritted my
teeth and slowly pulled myself into a sitting position. I leaned back against
my bed, refusing to look at him. He reached
up with a warm damp towel and started to wipe blood from my face. He put a bag of ice against the right side of
my cheek. He wasn’t overly gentle or tender, almost like a doctor just doing
what needed to be done.
“Here, hold this here.” He
commanded. I reached up and pressed the cold bag against my face, my fingers
instantly chilling at its touch. He
finished cleaning up the blood then got me a clean shirt. “Put this one on.” I looked down at my t-shirt and saw that it
was covered in blood. I stared at it,
blinking, confused by the different shades of red. He stood back and waited
patiently. “You need to change.” I looked up at him and he nodded slightly.
With every breath and every move my ribs caught fire. My face felt like a balloon. Finally, he sat
next to me on the floor.
“You going to tell me what
happened?”
What was I supposed to say to
him? My dad hates me and freaked out on me because he wants me dead instead of
my older brother.
“Your dad did this.” It
wasn’t a question. “I saw him storm out
of here.” I couldn’t find the words to admit to him what had happened. “How
long’s he been doing this to you?” He asked with a cutting edge. When I didn’t answer he said more forcefully,
“How long?”
“This is the first time.”
“Really?” He looked at me
skeptically. He must have seen something in my face to make him believe me.
“What set him off?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
“Not now.”
I expected him to push again
but he didn’t ask any more questions. I got lost in the shock of what had
happened. I ran through it over and over, wondering what I’d done wrong. If I’d only kept my mouth shut. I always had to learn things the hard way. I
wondered what would happen when he came home.
Finally he asked, “You okay
to be alone tonight?” I looked at the clock and realized he’d been sitting with
me for over two hours without saying a word.
I thought about it, “Yeah,
I’m fine.”
“Call me if he comes after
you again.” He walked to the window. “I’m serious, if you need something call
me!” He was harsh but I knew if I had to, I could call him.
“I will.” I said hesitantly.
“Wear a long sleeve shirt
tomorrow to hide the bruises.” Again, with the commands. “You can’t hide what’s
on your face, tell people we got in a fight tonight with some guys. I’ll back
the story up.”
“But you don’t have any
bruises.” I said feeling embarrassed. It would look like I got a total beat
down in a fight and he didn’t.
“Don’t worry about it, just
do it. K?”
“Fine.” I said, still not
liking the idea but thought it was better than telling people my dad did it.
“Night, Rick.” It was the
first time he called me Rick and not Ricky or Saint Ricky.
“Thanks.”
I answered uncomfortably. He jumped out
my window without a replyAbout the Book
Title: Violence Begets
Author: PT Denys
Genre: YA LGBT Fiction
After a tragic accident devastates his
family, 16-year-old Rick St. James starts his junior year of high school
without any friends in a suburb of Salt Lake City, Utah. When he meets
Kevin Vincent, he’s too distracted by the promise of new friends to see
that Kevin has secrets of his own.
Having created an environment where he’s
feared and admired by his classmates, Kevin finds pleasure in using his
good looks and violence to control and manipulate those around him.
Secretly, he cruises the gay club scene, turning tricks to earn money so
he can party and get high.
As Rick’s dad becomes increasingly
violent and abusive at home, the two form a surprising and volatile
trust. In this battle of wills, their precarious friendship will either
keep their lives from blowing up around them or possibly light the fuse
that will cause the explosion.
Author Bio
PT
never imagined she’d actually publish a book. But, the story of
Violence Begets… haunted her for over 20 years, and the lives of Kevin
and Rick had to be shared.
In addition to writing a sequel, she divides her time between family, work, attending theater and reading.
Above all else she loves being a mother to 2 amazing daughters (a teenager and a baby).
PT believes that no one deserves to be
intentionally hurt (physically or emotionally) by another. She also
believes that behind nearly every bully is a story.
Links
Website: www.PTDenys.com
Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/ptdenys
Facebook Profile: www.facebook.com/authorptdenys
Twitter Page: www.twitter.com/ptdenys
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