Chapter 187 He is your stepbrother.
Chapter 187 He is your stepbrother.
CHAPTER 187
He is your stepbrother.
REID
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“The blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem, like religion, like the way you look at me – Sean Glatch.”
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Do I feel as if I have been run over by a bus? Yes, I do.
Do I also feel like a thousand dollars? Yes, I fucking do.
It feels as if a boulder has been taken off my shoulders. This small clinic is filled with the people who matter to me – my father, Saint, his mom, our friends and Coach. Now, they all know about our relationship and the addiction. I am not naive enough to think that this is the beginning of something good, but I am certain it is the end of hiding. I fucking hate sneaking around. The illicit nature of our affair was golden, but for now, we don’t have to hide what we mean to each other anymore.
“In love?” Blake asks, confused.
“Yes.” I nod, glancing at him.
To their credit, they do not look disgusted, but they do look very confused.
My father is looking at me. My friends are looking at me. I ignore them, and I look at Saint. He still looks ashen, and I know it will take a while for the drugs to leave his system. I try not to wonder if he’ll regret this when the crash settles in. We’ve already embarked on a journey of no return, and the only way out is through.
“I don’t understand. How long have you been together?” Clark asks, and I look at him.
Guilt nibbles at me softly, because he is supposed to be my closest friend, and I kept this from him.
“With due respect, their relationship doesn’t matter right now.” Coach Tucker wipes the sweat from his forehead.
The good feeling slips out of me, and I sit upright, stifling a groan. Saint glances at me, anxiety flickering in his eyes. I smile at him, pretending I do not feel my shit. My knee is pulsing. My head aches terribly, and exhaustion is settling over me like a thick cloud. I need to sleep. I need an ice bath. I need to go home. There are a lot of things I need to do, but I need to be here more.
“We can circle back to that, to the implication of their relationship, but the fact remains the same – Saint is a drug addict. Reid knew of his addiction and his usage before the match, yet allowed him to play. Both of them need to be penalised for it. He is already hurt, which still doesn’t absolve him of his action, but one thing is certain: Saint is off the team until he is clean. I know a thing or two about addiction, and I know that getting clean doesn’t come easy, which means Saint might be permanently off the team.” His words are devoid of emotion. He sounds every bit a Coach, and I hate it.
“Permanently? Aren’t you being a little extreme, Tuck?” Dad runs his hand through his hair in frustration.
I exhale shakily, sweat trickling down my spine. Coach is right. I never should have let Saint play when he was high, but what was I supposed to do?
“I still think we need to take a moment to pull ourselves together. Reid is hurt, and the doctor will be here anytime soon. We can have this conversation later. Tonight has been … a lot.” Birdy suggests tenderly, looking out for us.
And something snaps in Coach.
“How am I the only sane person here?” He growls, fist clenched. “Whether we have the conversation now, or we have it later, nothing is changing. The facts are the facts. One of our players is in active addiction. Do you know what that means? I don’t know what he takes or how long he has been using, but it is a cry for help; something is very wrong. He needs to get help. I will not have him endanger himself or anyone else.”
“And Reid,” he turns to me.
I clench my jaw hard and glance at Saint. He is looking at his trembling hands, dissociating right in front of me, slipping away into the dark abyss. I cannot let him go there alone. He never has to walk alone. I shift on the bed so I can reach for him, and he looks at me, aware of me. My lungs tighten painfully as I look into his eyes. I want him closer. I need him closer. Somehow, he hears me, and links our hands together. I hold on to it desperately.
“If you want Saint off the team, you’re going to kick me off too, Coach. Looks like I need the time off anyway.” I shrug, eyelids growing heavy.
“Your captaincy will be revoked. Everything you have worked for since you were a child will be taken away. Do you understand this, Beaumont? This school – Kingsmakers- was founded by your mother’s family. You are a legacy here, but that doesn’t make you above the law. You have to understand what this means. If the board should hear of what happened, what you allowed, you will lose it all, and this fucking relationship doesn’t make it easier. I am trying to salvage this.” He seethes desperately.
“And I am trying to make it easier for you, Coach.” I shrug, head growing lighter. “I am exhausted. I am tired of being shoved in a box, on a stage and forced to perform. You know that Saint makes us better on the field; he makes me better. There is no me without him. Our relationship on and off the field is important to me, to who I am.”
“A borderline incestuous relationship?” He asks bluntly. “He is your stepbrother.”
Ah, yes.
The room turns silent, and I look at Saint, whose grip tightens over mine. He doesn’t speak, but I can see the gears in his head turning and turning.
“Actually,” June begins, and we glance at her.
“Their relationship is not borderline incestuous. It is not incestuous in any way. They are allowed to be together for as long as they want to be.” She looks everywhere but at us.
Saint and I look at each other.
“Mom?” He frowns at her.
“What she’s trying to say is we are not together. We have never been together, and our relationship has always been platonic, which allows you boys to be together.” Dad explains stiffly. “Trust me, I am not happy that you lied to me, but if anything wants to stand in the way of your relationship, it won’t be us- never us. You are allowed to be happy.”
A/N
I'm sure we all saw this coming.