Behind the Tears (Behind the Lives)

by Hansen, Marita A.

“If you go near Tyler again, I’ll rip that butt-fucker apart piece by piece. You won’t even recognise him once I’ve finished.”

  “You keep away from him, Tyler’s not like his father or uncle.”

  “They’re all the same: Pākehā scum.”

  “Don’t say that word! And Tyler didn’t use me, he wuz really nice.”

  “I bet he was. I’m really nice to bitches too when I want them to drop their knickers.”

  “I’m not a bitch! And it wuzn’t like that.”

  “Bullshit, I bet he got a nice piece of your girly arse. And now I know why you were always showing me it, cos you wanted me to fuck you too.”

  Corey screwed up his face, willing himself not to cry. “No, it wuzn’t like that,” he repeated.

  “Didja think of me when he pounded you? I bet you called out my name again.” He sneered. “Well, you might as well dream, cos I don’t want anything to do with your faggot arse.”

  Corey recoiled. He was wrong. Naf hadn’t made him feel disgusting yesterday, because he hadn’t wanted to stuff himself full of drugs so that he didn’t wake up like he did now. He closed his eyes as the tears started. He couldn’t stand seeing his best mate, the person he loved more than anyone else, hate him.

  He heard Sledge grunt, then the chair clattered on the floor. He opened his eyes as Sledge stomped out of the room.

  A female voice called out Sledge’s name.

  Corey quickly wiped his eyes. “Mum?”

  His mother walked into the room. She looked like an older version of Beth, but closer to a sister than a mother, with her unwrinkled complexion, long black hair and slim figure adding to the illusion. Her expression dropped. “Oh, my good Lord, what happened, love?” she said, rushing to his bed.

  Corey fidgeted under the covers, not wanting her to know. “I banged into sumpthin’.”

  “But your face.”

  “I’m not in here cos of that. I fell over and bruised my ribs this morning. The doc just wanted to make sure I wuz alright cos of the cancer.”

  “Who hurt your face?”

  “I don’t know them, and it looks worse than it feels.”

  “Didja inform the police?”

  “No, Mum, it wuz just one unlucky punch, I’m already over it.”

  “Was it at a party? You know you’re not s’posed to be goin’ to dangerous places—”

  “Mum, please stop.”

  She frowned, then picked up Sledge’s chair and sat down. She took his hand, running a thumb over the back of it. “I worry ’bout you, love. You’re always gettin’ hurt. You should stop this nonsense and come home.”

  “You know why I can’t,” cos Dad hates me being gay. Everyone hates me being gay, but not as much as I do, cos if I wuzn’t I wouldn’t love Sledge so much.

  A flash of anger flickered through her eyes. “Your father can move out if he has a problem.”

  “I don’t wanna cause trouble, Mum.”

  “You’re not, he is.”

  “It doesn’t matter, I’ve got my own place now, and at least I’m with Naf.”

  “Don’t call your brother names.”

  “It’s just a nickname, everyone but you and Dad calls him Naf.”

  She shook her head. “I know what it means, so I don’t wanna hear you say it again.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry.”

  She breathed out. “And what’s wrong with Sledge? Why did he storm out?”

  “He’s upset I’m hurt,” Corey lied. His gaze shifted back to the doorway, realising his father was standing there. His old man lifted his chin in an awkward hello, then focused on something down the corridor. Corey used to think he looked like him, but realised once he’d lost the weight the only similarities were their short stature, pale complexion and reddish-brown hair—when he’d had it.

  He pulled his beanie over his eyebrows, the only bit of hair that hadn’t fallen out along with his eyelashes. He guessed he was lucky that he still had them, because he’d seen some cancer patients who’d lost everything, followed by their lives.

  “Why’s Dad here?” he asked.

  “He was concerned about you, love.”

  Corey withheld a sneer for his mother’s sake. His father had no concern for him, otherwise he wouldn’t have chucked him out after finding gay porn on his computer, or would have asked him to come back when he’d been diagnosed with cancer.

  “What did the doctor say?” his mother continued. “Are you well enough to have radiotherapy tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, and I hope they’re letting you stay overnight, cos you’re looking far too skinny, sweetheart. Apart from today, how’s your stomach been feeling?”

  Corey frowned at the name sweetheart, remembering Sledge’s taunt. “It’s fine, and I’m not staying tonight,” he said, wondering where he could go, because there was no way he was going anywhere near Sledge after today.

  His mother took his hand. “No, Corey, please stay.”

  “I hate hospitals. I’m in here enough as it is.”

  “Then move back in with us. I’ll look after you, and will make sure you eat properly.” She moved a hand to his arm. “You’re far too skinny,” she repeated.

  Corey looked back at his father, who continued to stare down the corridor. “No, I’ll stay here,” he lied.

  “I still want you to reconsider coming home. I know you like being with your friends and brother, but they can’t take care of you like I can.”

  “But Dad—”

  “I told you my opinions on him, so please come home, I need you there. I’m always worrying ’bout you.”

  “I’ll think about it,” he said, feeling guilty, because there was no way he was living with his old man again.

  She smiled. “Good boy.” She ran her hand along his arm again. “You look hungry. I’ll get you something to eat.”

  “I’m just thirsty. Can you buy me a Coke?”

  “Where are your manners?”

  “Please.”

  “Good boy. But not a Coke, a Sprite will be better on your stomach. I’ll go get you one along with some food. I’ll be back soon.” She got up and left with his father.

  Corey grabbed his phone off the bedside cabinet, and scrolled down to Tyler’s number.

  Tyler picked up after a few seconds. “You alright, Corey?”

  “Got some badly bruised ribs. How’re you?”

  “I got a black eye, sore ribs and nose, but at least nothing’s busted. Though, they’re gonna be mad at me at work, ’cause there’s no way that I can do the photo-shoot now.”

  “Photo-shoot?”

  “I’m a model.”

  Corey swore under his breath, realising he’d probably cost Tyler a shitload of money. “I’m so sorry, man, this is all my fault.”

  “No, it’s not; you hurt yourself trying to stop him. I appreciate what you did. Can I visit you? That is, when your prick of a mate isn’t there.”

  “Actually...” Corey crossed his fingers. “Would it be alright if you come get me? I need a place to stay.”

  “Sure. I can be there in thirty minutes.”

  “Thanks, but when you get here make sure I’m alone before you enter. I don’t want anyone finding me, especially Sledge.”

  “No problem. And you can stay with me for as long as you like.”

  Corey smiled. Man, the guy was nice. “Thanks, Tyler. I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re more than welcome. What’s your room number?”

  Corey reeled it off, then said bye. Ten minutes later his mother returned with a can of Sprite and an arm full of food that Corey definitely didn’t want to eat.

  “Thanks, Mum,” he said, taking the Sprite. His eyes went to the door, looking for his father.

  His mother pushed his beanie up, making him grab for it. “Don’t worry, love, I’m not taking it off, it was almost over your eyes.” She glanced at the spot where Corey was staring at. “Your father couldn’t stay. He wanted to pop in to see your g
reat uncle Max. The old fella is worsening, they’re not too sure he has much time left.”

  Corey frowned at the mention of his uncle. He liked the old dude. “He could’ve at least said bye—or even hello.”

  “I’m sorry, but you know what he’s like.”

  Yeah, a homophobic arsehole. Corey opened the can. “I’m tired, Mum. After I finish the drink I wanna sleep. You can go, too.”

  “No, I wanna stay with you.”

  “There’s no use if I’m sleeping, but we can talk for fifteen minutes if you like.”

  “Okay, love.”

  Corey took a swig of the Sprite. Once he left with Tyler that was it. He’d had enough. If two of the people he loved couldn’t stand what he was, he didn’t want to see them again. And stuff the radiotherapy; he didn’t give a shit anymore.

  21

  Sledge

  That sleazy bastard had fucked Corey alright. Sledge had seen it in Corey’s expression. God, he wanted to rip Tyler Jones apart for touching, let alone breathing on Corey.

  He slammed the car door shut and headed around Juliet’s Hyundai. Considering it was Sunday, he didn’t know why the Jones’s street was so quiet. Kids were always playing ball sports in his cul-de-sac, getting in the way of cars and being li’l shites.

  He pushed open the gate, and glanced over at the neighbouring house as rap music started playing, the only thing giving life to the dead-end street. He bobbed his head up and down in rhythm as his gaze shifted to the broken-down car sitting on the grass. He wondered whether Corey’s dad would like it. It had a good body, solid, with only a bit of rust.

  He snapped his attention away from the car, realising he was just prolonging what he had to do. Wondering whether Tyler’s father was home, he pounded on the front door. He’d never dealt with Deano like Ash and Dante had, but had seen the racist prick around town, the guy a poster child for Nazis. He’d also been told the guy was a right psycho, but he didn’t care, because he was most definitely in the mood for a rip-roaring fight.

  Someone hollered inside. After several seconds the front door pulled open, revealing an emo girl dressed in black.

  “My dad and uncle’s not home,” she said. “Come back later.”

  Sledge jammed a boot in the door before she could close it. He’d heard about Kirstin from his cousins Kane and Mick, and they were right, she was hot. “I’m not here for them; I’m looking for my mate Corey Connor.”

  She pouted. “My cousin took off with him last night, probably lured him away with booze.” A lopsided grin played across her features. “Though, I would’ve loved to see Tyler get smacked for making a pass at him.”

  Sledge tried not to grimace. “Is Tyler home?”

  “No, he doesn’t live here anymore.”

  I know. “Can I have his address then? Corey hasn’t come back, and I’m gettin’ worried.”

  “Well, he won’t be at Tyler’s, I can guarantee that.”

  “Can I still have it? Maybe Tyler can tell me when Corey left his place.”

  Her brows pulled together. “What’s your name?”

  Sledge went silent, not sure whether he should tell her. Well, he could always give her a fake one. He went to open his mouth then stopped as someone let out a loud whoop, accompanied by swearing. Sledge recognised his cousin’s voices. He poked his head through the doorway. “Hey, cuzzie bros, how’s it hanging?”

  Kane and Mick looked up from the couch, along with an emo boy. “Sledge!” Kane yelled. “Whatcha doin’ ’ere?”

  “Tryna find my mate.” He glanced back at Kirstin. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure, no probs.”

  Sledge followed her inside as Kane climbed over the couch. He was wearing jeans, a T-shirt with a marijuana symbol and a Rastafarian tam hat, which hid his dreadlocks.

  “What’s your mate’s name?” Kane asked.

  “Corey Connor. He’s short, skinny and is always wearing a beanie. This chick said he went off with her cuz.”

  “Yeah, I warned him ’bout that fag, but I don’t think he got what I wuz saying.”

  “Tag! Don’t insult Tyler.” Kirstin punched Kane.

  “Ouch!” Kane rubbed his shoulder. “Whatcha do that for, bitch? You call him a flower.”

  “I can say what I like, he’s my cousin, but you can’t. And flower is nicer than what you called him.”

  “I can call him a lot worse than that.” Kane refocused on Sledge. “Anyway, Corey’s bro said he could take care of himself, and if the butt jockey— Ouch! Stop punching me!”

  “Then stop insulting Tyler!” Kirstin yelled.

  “He’s not even here, and if the flower...” He poked out his tongue at Kirstin, then returned his attention to Sledge, “...made any moves on your mate, he would’ve gotten smacked. Tyler’s such a lamo girl when it comes to fighting.”

  Kirstin laughed. “Yeah, even I can take him down.”

  “That’s cos you’re a nasty bitch who bites.” Kane extended his right hand and pointed to a mark. “Look what she did to me last week. All I did wuz accidentally touch her, and she went nuts.”

  “You grabbed my breasts.”

  “No, I didn’t. They’re so small I wouldn’t know where to look.”

  The guys on the couch started laughing as Kirstin smacked Kane across the head. Kane raised his hands to defend himself. “Stoppit, you crazy bitch! You’re just lucky I don’t hit girls.”

  “She ain’t a girl,” Emo boy said from the couch. “She’s a woman.”

  Kane sniggered. “Only cos you’re still tryna get into her cobwebbed knickers.”

  Kirstin whacked Kane again. “You’re a bastard, Tag.”

  “Will ya stop that?” Kane fended her off as she tried to punch him. “I wuz just stating a fact.”

  Sledge laughed. He’d always liked Kane. He reminded him of Tama, just with less agro and loads more humour. He grabbed Kirstin’s shoulders and pulled her away from his cousin. She squealed and hit out at him.

  Sledge let go. “Calm down, babe. I wuzn’t gonna hurt ya, and Kane’s only—”

  “It’s Tag,” Kane said.

  “Okay, Tag’s just riling ya up cos he fancies you.”

  “Hey! I do not,” Kane yelled.

  “Tag always insults chicks he likes. He’s been like that since he wuz li’l.”

  Kirstin’s irritated expression turned into a smile.

  Kane glared at Sledge. “I thought you were on my side.”

  Sledge laughed. “Just ribbing ya, cuz.”

  “Nah, Tag does like her, he told me,” Mick said from the couch.

  Kane’s face dropped. “You bastard!” He clambered over the couch and started punching his brother, who dropped the remote and grabbed Kane in a headlock.

  Kirstin rolled her eyes. “Those two are always fighting.” She took Sledge’s arm and led him outside, telling him Tyler’s address.

  “Thanks, babe,” Sledge said.

  “No probs.” She leaned forward. “Is Mick telling the truth about Tag liking me?”

  “Yup, looks like it. But he won’t admit it.”

  She bounced on her feet, looking ecstatic. “I can’t wait till my BF hears about this, she’s gonna be so jealous.”

  Sledge grinned. He looked around the corner to say bye, but laughed instead. His cousins had already stopped fighting, and were back on the PlayStation, yelling at each other as they punched and kicked their way through the game instead.

  Sledge’s gaze shifted to the emo boy. The guy was staring at Kirstin’s arse like he was imagining pounding it. Well, his cousin was in for a bit of competition if he had his sights set on the girl.

  Sledge thanked Kirstin, then headed for Juliet’s car, ready to pay Tyler a visit.

  ***

  Sledge sat in Juliet’s car, eating a steak and cheese pie as he eyed up Tyler’s crib through the windscreen. It was a terraced apartment with a fancy-schmancy garden out front and an awesome view of the Waitemata Harbour that must’ve cost the cocksucker
a lifetime of blowjobs.

  He took the last bite of pie, wiped his face, then got out, and made a beeline for the front door. When no one answered his knocking, he walked around the side, scaled the fence and climbed down a tree.

  Once his boots hit solid ground, he eyed-up the backyard. Trees surrounded it, giving the property a degree of privacy. An entertainment area with stand-alone lighting, a barbecue, a wooden table with chairs and a spa pool took up most of the space. At the back of the apartment, vine-like flowers hung from the patio overhang. Sledge frowned. He bet Corey was impressed with it, because he was.

  He jumped onto the patio and gave the sliding-door a tug, surprised when it opened. He poked his head inside, wondering whether anyone was home, possibly in the shower, which was why no one had answered the door. He stood still for a moment, listening for any sounds. When he couldn’t hear anything, he stepped inside the lounge and sized up the room, again impressed. A tan leather couch hugged one corner while a huge flat-screen telly almost took up a whole wall. He glanced to his left at an African wooden sculpture, the only thing he thought was ugly in the room. He poked it, wondering why the hell anyone would buy something like that. His gaze shifted to the elaborate Asian cabinet next to it, which he liked a hell of a lot more. He ran his fingers over the blue and white pottery lining the cabinet, curious at how much they cost. He grinned. If Tama had come, the place would’ve been emptied in no time at all. His smile dropped at the thought of his dead mate. He loosened his shoulders and shook out the tension, pushing Tama to the back of his mind. He was here for Corey, because there was no way he was losing another mate.

  He poked his head into the next room. A King-sized bed sat at its centre with a body hidden underneath its duvet. He walked around the bed and pulled back the sheet, ready to threaten Tyler, but froze, shocked to see Corey instead. Corey lay on his side, wearing only his boxers and beanie.

  Sledge dropped the sheet, upset that Corey had gone back to Tyler. How long had Corey known Tyler for? Had he been seeing him since that party a few months back? But, Corey had slept with his sister. Why would he do that if he was going with Tyler all this time?

  He breathed in, feeling sickened by his mate being here. Why would Corey let that sleazy bastard use him? Corey was too good for Tyler. His gaze shifted to the small bottle of lube on the bedside table. He swore under his breath and raised a hand to cover his eyes. God, why was Corey doing this to him?