by Drew Sera
“Well, you are the younger one…so….yes. Damn Anth, I thought you were my numbers guy.”
I laughed and shook my head at his jokes. I wondered for a brief moment what it would have been like to have a brother. Would my childhood have been the same? Would we have been strong enough together to get away from it? Would I only have taken half of what I really got?
No.
I wouldn’t have let those fucking assholes touch a hair on his head. I didn’t care if he would have been older or not. I would never, ever have let a sibling hurt like that. Never.
Chapter Fourteen
February 2001
Our play scene had me bothered. I have never played with a switch who turned the tables during a scene. I had never lost control like that during a scene. Meaning, I never had the control pulled away from me. It didn’t sit well with me at all, and I knew Blake was pissed about it. After Anthony left last night, Matt and I stayed and talked to Blake for a while.
Blake is extremely protective of Anthony, as he should be; he is Anthony’s mentor. Matt and I have known Anthony for a while now, and there are a lot of things we know about him, but there is still some stuff that he keeps hidden. He’s very closed about himself, which is just who he is. But Matt has mentioned a few times that there’s probably a reason for it. So, I decided to bend Blake’s ear last night as the three of us sat on some couches on the main floor of Irons.
“Blake, do you know how Anthony got that scar?” I asked him.
He shook his head and leaned forward resting his forearms on his legs.
“I don’t. It’s something that I’ve wondered the second I saw it. Just like you guys, I’m sure. I asked him once, and he told me the same thing that he told you guys; that he was doing something stupid at the time. I’m assuming it’s some schoolyard fight.”
I nodded, and Matt spoke up.
“Maybe a drunken fight in college or something,” Matt added.
“No. I know that’s absolutely not it. Anthony is very firm on not drinking,” Blake said.
I agreed with Blake. We’ve attended several cocktail parties and business dinners and if he feels like he needs to order a drink to “fit in,” he never brings the glass to his lips.
“Is he a recovering alcoholic?” Matt asked Blake.
“No. Anthony just doesn’t drink. I have a feeling that he might have grown up around alcoholic parents,” Blake said.
I nodded. Makes sense. I need to make it a point to make sure Anthony doesn’t feel like he has to order alcohol when we go places for business. It’s not fair to him.
“I don’t think Anthony grew up in a very loving home. I could be wrong, but it’s just my gut feeling. And, for what it’s worth, I’m so glad the three of you have become friends,” Blake mentioned.
Matt and I left not much longer after we finished talking to Blake. I lived in the same neighborhood as Matt, so we drove to the club together tonight.
“Are you going to call Anth tonight?” Matt asked me on our way home.
“I’m not sure. I feel like I should, but you know how he is. He’s very…”
“Head-strong?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s self-sufficient. And the chances are good that what Blake was saying about him not being around a caring home, makes perfect sense. He would take more offense to you calling him tonight than not calling him.”
Matt was right. Anthony would be more irritated that I called to see how his scratches were versus not calling him.
“My God, Matt, we sound like college girls asking each other ‘should I’ or ‘shouldn’t I’ questions.”
He and I laughed and when I got inside my house, I stared at the phone a few times but opted not to call.
When I woke up, I went for a jog and decided to call Anthony when I got back. Despite both of us being Doms, he is equally my responsibility in a scene, just as I am his.
We chatted a bit, and at first, I worried that he was going to be really short with his responses, but he warmed up and joked along with me. I thought back to what Blake said last night about how glad he was that Matt and I had become friends with Anthony. Before Anthony became friends with us, Blake was all he had.
“What are you doing today, Anth?”
“Nothing really. I was going to go to the gym and work out.”
“Want to come over and hit golf balls?”
I could tell that he was thinking about it and he finally agreed. We spent the afternoon hitting golf balls and then ordered pizza and watched basketball. By the time he left, I was confident that inviting him over was a good idea this afternoon. Though he was doing fine, it’s still nice to have pals to knock golf balls around with and watch games.
Chapter Fifteen
June 2002
I was lying in bed awake, slowly easing into my Monday when the phone rang and startled me.
“Fuck, who the hell is calling this early?”
I rolled over and answered the phone.
“Anth,” Colin’s voice came through the receiver.
I sat up because I could tell by his voice that something was wrong.
“Yeah?”
“Sam Bishop is dead.”
My heart slammed against my chest. Sam Bishop was one of the guys in the legal department, and he was one of Colin’s first employees.
“What? How…what happened?”
“His wife called me about an hour ago. She said he killed himself last night.”
“Fuck.”
I didn’t know what to say to him. I was just as lost as he was.
“I’m not going to make it in today, Anth.”
I nodded and forced words out of my mouth.
“Ok, don’t worry. I’ll be in the office.”
“You don’t have to, Anth. I’m going to send an email, notifying our employees. I’ll call you later.”
He didn’t wait for me to say anything additional and hung up. I leaned forward and rested my forearms on my legs and quickly got lost in a memory of how close I came at one point to taking my own life. I was fifteen…
I was at the end of my rope and couldn’t stand facing another day. As I was getting older, Bruce and Connor were getting rougher with me. New bruises were piled on top of fading bruises, and abrasions left from the belt made walking and sitting difficult. I was also passing out almost weekly. I was getting so run down and hungry. In a lot of cases, I didn’t have the energy to fight back much, or when I did I couldn’t maintain the fight.
I couldn’t live like this anymore. And really, I wasn’t even living. I was just barely existing.
I woke up cold, naked and face down, with that vile taste in my mouth and the corners of my mouth crusted and dried. It was starting to get light out, but my room was being lit up by a thunderstorm that raged on outside. I ached, like usual, but knew I’d feel better if I got up and went to the bathroom to assess the damage from Bruce and Connor. Saturday nights were usually the worst.
I started to sit up and felt pain like I’ve never felt before in my lower stomach. Something was wrong. This wasn’t like before. I was dizzy too but concentrated on the pain in my stomach. As I rolled over, I felt like I was lying on something. When I moved again, it felt worse.
Confused, I reached back and felt something; something lodged in me. With shaking fingers, I traced the object. Glass? It was hard, and I felt the tiny ridges that were often on the bottoms of bottles. My head was so foggy that I struggled to comprehend what it was. And I was scared of what it was. I gripped the round base of the object and pulled carefully. The pain caused me to bite down on the inside of my jaw to prevent actual sounds from escaping my mouth. Pushing through the pain I, kept pulling until a beer bottle landed on my bed.
I held my stomach and shoved myself away from the bottle and leaned against the wall that my bed sat against on one side. In disbelief, I stared at the bottle. There was blood on the neck of it, which was now on my sheets.
I tried thinking back to last night…
trying to recall what happened.
My mind was blank. I couldn’t think. I was afraid to move much because everything hurt. Carefully, I leaned my head back against the wall and held my stomach. I was breathing hard, and tears were forming in my eyes. Soon, I couldn’t see without having to wipe them away.
I scooted to the edge of my bed. I needed the bathroom. I found some boxers, and as I pulled them on, I glanced at my bed. There was a bloody streak on the sheets where I just moved across.
I was bleeding.
I was angry.
I was scared.
I quietly went to the bathroom, closed and locked the door and looked at myself. I took inventory, and aside from the beer bottle incident, I seemed to come away with a few more bruises on my chest and a new burn on my stomach. Fucking assholes.
I pounded my fist on the counter in anger. I couldn’t live like this anymore.
I turned the shower on the cold setting and braced my palms on the tiled shower wall. The icy water ran down my back, and I watched the water color turn red as it swirled down the drain.
Done. I told myself that I’m done with it all. My life fucking sucks and I’m not hanging around for this to happen again. I slammed the faucet off and partially dried off. It didn’t matter. I pulled on the boxers and went back to my room.
Seeing the bottle and my blood angered me further. I’m done. I had nothing to live for. Nothing in front of me. I just wanted to stop everything. I swallowed hard and looked around my room. I had a bed, a folding chair and an old table for a desk. Nothing but dings on my walls. No posters of TV shows, movies or sports figures. I had nothing. My life, was nothing. I was nothing.
No one would even know that I was gone. Except for my teachers. They’d know I wasn’t there when they took attendance on Monday. But no suspicion would be raised for a few days. Bruce and Connor could go fuck themselves. I wouldn’t take it anymore.
I pulled on a pair of jeans and an undershirt, then pulled on my shoes without socks. Seemed like good enough clothes to die in. I stormed out of my room and stood in front of the tall bookcase that was in the hallway. In plain sight was Bruce’s gun and a box of bullets. I just needed the one. I pulled the gun down, loaded it with the bullet that would make all the pain stop, and went outside to the backyard.
In the pouring rain, I walked over to the tree that I used to climb when I was little. I’d climb it to hide from them. It was the only place that kept them away from me for a short while. I don’t know if I was shaking because I was so cold or if I was scared. I knelt down by the tree and thought; do I put the gun against my forehead or the barrel in my mouth? I want it to be a sure shot and just end it.
I put my finger on the trigger and held it against the side of my head and closed my eyes. It’d all be over soon. Just pull it!
“What the fuck are you doing?” Bruce’s voice carried over the rain.
I opened my eyes, Bruce stood about ten feet in front of me in the rain. Connor stood under the covered patio with his hands on his hips.
I shook my head at him. No more.
He stepped closer, and I cocked the gun.
“Anthony.”
“Stop! Don’t come any closer to me!” I yelled.
“Are you mad over the bottle?” Bruce laughed at me. “Believe me; no one would rather have you gone, than me. Your mother wouldn’t be able to hide behind you anymore.”
“She doesn’t give a fuck about me!”
“You’re right. She doesn’t. She uses you.” Bruce shrugged and walked closer. “She’s a selfish bitch and would rather push you in front of me. And yeah, she doesn’t care about you. You are…an accident.”
"Bruce! For Christ's sake!" Connor yelled at Bruce.
My chest was heaving. Why was I listening to him?
“Pull it, Anthony! Get out of my life! Do it and rid me of your annoying existence.”
I swallowed hard. He wanted me to do it.
“Come on, Anthony. Do it.”
“Bruce!” Connor yelled.
He’d be happy if I were gone.
I lowered the gun and stood up. Bruce walked closer until he was within reach. Our eyes were fixed on one other.
“Backing down like a coward?”
I lowered my gaze to the gun, removed the bullet and threw it onto the roof of the house. I stood as tall as I could in front of Bruce.
“I’m not giving you the satisfaction.”
He reached for the empty gun as I held it out to him. Bruce grabbed it and then slapped me on the side of my head. He grabbed me by my shirt and got right in my face, and I covered my ear that he just hit.
“Don’t you EVER touch this gun again unless you’re damn sure that you’re man enough to pull the fucking trigger!”
He shoved me away from him, knocking me into the tree. Bruce towered over me before spitting on me and then turning to walk inside. As he got closer to the patio, Connor started yelling at him and gesturing over at me. I couldn’t hear what he was saying over the thunder and my stunned hearing. I rubbed at the ear Bruce hit, hating the ache that radiated through it into my jaw.
I stayed outside for what seemed like hours; just sitting against the tree. Thoughts escaped me. Nothing was going on in my head. I was shaking and had my forearms resting on top of my knees, and my head was resting on it. My eyes were closed but shot open when I heard Connor just a few feet away from me.
“Anthony.”
I looked up at him. Now what?
“You’ve been outside for three hours. You’re going to get sick out here.”
“What the hell does it matter to you?”
“Get your ass off the wet ground,” Connor said and started to pull off his belt.
I quickly stood and headed toward the house. I couldn’t take anything else right now. Under the cover of the patio, Connor tossed a dry towel at me and waited to open the door until I was somewhat dry.
When I went inside, I headed straight for my bathroom. I locked the door and stared at the blood residue that hadn’t washed all the way down the drain from earlier. Even though I hated baths and warm water, my teeth were chattering. I sat in the warm water until the chill went away and once I was sure that I was completely clean.
I pulled on some dry sweatpants and a t-shirt when I got back to my room. The bottle was still on my bed and bloody sheets. I didn’t have any energy in me to clean this up now, so I pulled my pillow off the bed and tugged on a sweatshirt before settling in on the floor.
For the next week at school, Connor had me on watch. So instead of going to my scheduled classes, I had to stay in his office and do my class work. He hardly touched me that week. Maybe he was really afraid that I’d kill myself. I wouldn’t. Bruce would be happy then…and I wasn’t going to do anything to make him happy.
I took a deep breath, ran my hand over my face and stood to stretch. I needed to get going and get to work. I pushed myself through my morning routine. I went for a quick jog and thought about Sam and tried to speculate what could have been going on in his head. Having been there before myself, I understood that it probably just wasn’t one thing, but a culmination of things.
When I got home, I quickly ate a banana while I picked out my clothes for work. I shaved, showered and slowly got dressed. I seemed to be moving at a slower pace. And my head was busy. Sam, his family, my past attempt at suicide and Colin were all on my mind.
Especially Colin. He was really upset this morning. Sam had been one of the legal guys that opened the doors of Everett Gaming with Colin. I understood the impact his death was having on Colin and why he needed some time.
I started my drive to work on autopilot.
While I knew that Colin and Sam weren’t really close, they were more than work acquaintances. I never had friends or a family until I went to live with my dad at seventeen. But when he died, I felt like my world had exploded. I barely got through that time and started to go down a really bad path. Blake stepped in and helped me. He didn’t let me fall.
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I pulled into the nearest parking lot and put my truck in park.
Blake helped me. Even when I didn’t want anyone around and hated the world, Blake was there. He didn’t let me spend Thanksgiving or Christmas alone. He was there for me. And when he knew that I couldn’t or didn’t want to talk, he still stayed with me. Colin and Matt were my solid friends, and they also made sure I wasn’t alone for my birthdays and holidays. They always included me. These guys were my family now...and I wasn’t going to let Colin be alone right now.
Instead of driving to work, I drove to Colin’s and thankfully the gate attendant, Max, recognized me and let me in. I pulled into Colin’s massive driveway and made my way slowly to his door. I didn’t have anything prepared to say to him and am terrible at these things.
I rang the doorbell, and when there wasn’t an answer, I knocked loudly. Finally, Colin answered, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. He frowned when he saw me.
“Anth, what are you doing here? I thought you might be my landscaper. He’s scheduled for today.”
I laughed and looked over my shoulder at his immaculate yard.
“Not unless you want your yard destroyed. I don’t have a green thumb.”
Colin stepped away from the door to let me in, and I shut the door behind me.
“Want some coffee? Since you and I won’t be having coffee at work this morning, least I can offer you some,” Colin offered as we walked to his kitchen.
“Sure, thanks.”
I sat down at his breakfast bar while he made coffee. Sweat was forming on my head as I tried to come up with the right words.
“I was getting ready to send the email to the employees about Sam. I’m trying to word it but keep getting stuck,” Colin said as he handed me a mug and sat down beside me.
“Don’t send it, Col.”
I took a deep breath. I thought back to when my dad told me that my mom was dead. He drove all the way to my place late at night so he could be there with me when he told me.
