Who He Is

by S. Q. Williams

  I shivered from the breeze, hurrying to my bus, but hearing someone yell, “GET UP!” caused me to flinch and stop in my tracks. I froze, gasping as I scanned my surroundings. No one was around; the parking lot was empty. I figured it was one of the security guards in the trailers being rowdy over a sports game, so I turned for my bus again, but this time I heard a loud SMACK and someone cried out in pain.

  I gasped again, hurrying for the noise. The smacking and bone crunching happened over and over again, and as I got closer and closer, it sounded extremely painful. Grunting filled the silence and as soon as I rounded one of the trailers, I froze in my tracks, staring ahead in complete disbelief.

  Bent over on his knees was Deed. His head hung low, blood running from his lips and dripping onto the pavement. His floppy, wet hair fell over his eyes and he was sniffling while clutching his middle. It surprised me that he was bending over, but what surprised me even more was seeing the man in the suit (whose presence always freaked me out) standing above him with nothing but hatred in his eyes. His large hand was balled into a fist and held in the air and his jaw was locked as he glared down at Deed. As they heard my gasp, both of them looked up at me, and the man lowered his hand slowly.

  “W—what are you doing?” I tried to keep my voice stable… Unfortunately, I failed terribly at it.

  The man in the suit ran a hand through his peppery hair. He looked at Deed once more and took a step back. “It’s none of your concern,” he said, sliding his fingers into the pockets of his suit pants.

  “Why are you hitting him?” I snapped. I then looked down at Deed, but his head was hanging in shame and he was still sniffling, his jaw locking while he clutched his middle. “Deed,” I whispered. It sounded more like my voice had broken. “Are you okay?”

  “Eliza… I’m fine. Just… leave,” he murmured.

  I flared instantly. Hearing his voice crack and fill with agony brought back harsh memories. Memories I didn’t want to relive. A smacking upside my head. A kick in the stomach. A blow to the chest. A slap on the face. Leather against my fragile skin. It all came tunneling back to my mind, and I took a step forward. “You worthless piece of shit,” I hissed at the man in the suit.

  He chuckled, amused by my sudden rage, but I wasn’t having it. I wanted to sock him right in his fucking jaw. Now I knew why Deed had such an attitude lately. It wasn’t me. This man was to blame. I felt for Deed then because being tossed around and beaten up was never a good feeling. It hurt. I knew from experience.

  Shoving past the man, I helped Deed to his feet, but he winced as I hooked my arm around his shoulder. Drizzle sprinkled over us as I grabbed his arm to keep him up. “Deed, look at me,” I said, tilting his chin. “Are you hurt?”

  He nodded once but kept his lips sealed. “You shouldn’t be here, Eliza,” he whispered to me. “You’re just making it worse for me later on.” Just as Deed spoke, there was a blow against his back and he crumpled. I didn’t want him to fall and I couldn’t support all his weight, so I ended up falling against the pavement with him.

  “We aren’t done talking, Dedrick,” the man said, seeming entirely too intimidating for either one of us to handle. I scrambled back with Deed, but the man kept taking steps forward, his eyes dark, menacing.

  He then pulled his leg back, lifting his foot higher in the air, and I knew what was coming. He was going to kick him. And by our proximity—by the way I was sitting in front of him, trying to defend him—I knew the kick might come at me first.

  I winced, preparing for it. The higher his leg lifted, the more frightened I became—the heavier my heart banged against my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut. I would do it for Deed. He was hurting already. I would take the blow and tell Ben right away to toss this man in jail. Who the hell was he anyway?

  Just as the thought surfaced, someone roared, “Bentley!” from a distance. I turned quickly, spotting Gage, whose eyebrows were stitched. His nostrils flared and his lips were pinched so tight that the skin around his mouth was pale. The skin over his knuckles was as white as snow because of his clenched fist.

  “Look, all you fuckers are worried about me and my business. Mind your own,” Bentley snapped, but before he could speak anymore, Gage stormed forward, punching him in the jaw. Bentley stumbled backward and started to fall but caught himself. Growling and grimacing at Gage, he charged forward, but it was too late. Gage widened his stance, his fists clenched and ready for him, but before he could get to Gage, a few large men stormed out from the trailers nearby and rushed for Bentley. Their grips locked around his arms and he tried to pull away, swing, and even shove, but they weren’t having it.

  Bentley then laughed sarcastically, looking around at each man, at Gage, and finally, Deed and me. Deed’s head was still hanging down and he was breathing painfully hard behind me. Who is Bentley to Deed?

  “This is funny,” Bentley said, gazing around with a wide, eerie smile. “Truly funny.” He yanked his arm free of the men’s grips and stormed for one of the trailers nearby. The door slammed behind him and with a few grumbles and concerned looks, the men were back in their trailers as well. Gage was still standing, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Bentley’s trailer.

  I stood slowly, struggling to bring Deed with me. Gage heard me grunt and rushed for us, hooking Deed’s arm around his shoulders. “I got him.” Gage sighed, taking him away from me. “Go and get your day started, Ellie. We’ll meet up later.”

  I nodded, refusing to argue. I was terrified. I was so close to being kicked—so close to being hurt and put back into the nightmare I once lived, that I had to get away. Shit. Bentley triggered it.

  I started panicking, panting in and out my nose and mouth a little too quickly. I rushed for the door of my bus and banged on it. Ben appeared, fully dressed and smiling, but as he took in my horrid, pale face and how fast I was breathing, he panicked as well and helped me inside.

  “Eliza, sweetie, what’s wrong?” he asked, dragging me toward the couch.

  I heaved in a breath, but it didn’t seem like enough. Oh no. I was reliving it again. The flashbacks were coming. The smacking. The beatings with leather belts. The shoving against my back. Her tormenting words as she laughed at me while it happened. It was painful, scary.

  “Eliza, what did I tell you before?” Ben said, squatting down in front of me. “Breathe, Eliza. It’s the past. Just… breathe, baby.”

  I nodded, taking in deep gulps of air. I started to calm down as I squeezed my hands together, my leg bouncing up and down to try and get rid of it. Unfortunately, it kept coming back and my breathing only increased. Soon I was hyperventilating and Ben cursed beneath his breath, pulling away from me. He stormed down the hallway and I clutched my chest, feeling my heart pounding a mile a minute.

  I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t get myself under control. I was older now and it was over with. It’d been a while since I thought about it, but being a witness to Bentley’s abusive side brought back the harsh, terrifying memories. It dredged up the agony and sent my world crashing down around me. My ribs were closing in around my heart; my lungs were deprived of any oxygen.

  The front door of the bus swung open, but I didn’t bother to look up and see who it was. I couldn’t. I was stuck.

  “Eliza?” Gage called from the door.

  I wanted to answer him. My heart had even skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. I was glad to hear it, but I couldn’t stop. It was surprising that when he spoke, the worries vanished a little bit.

  He came closer and bent down on one knee. “Eliza, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice shaky. I shook my head, still squeezing my fingers together. He looked down at my fingers, his eyes wide as they met mine. “Eliza, tell me what’s wrong.” He cupped my face, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Breathe, Eliza. Breathe. What’s wrong?” he whispered.

  He kissed my cheek and my heart skipped another beat. The heavy breathing slowed and I squeezed him, begging him to say something else to rid my mind of the
memories. My fingernails bit into his arm as I squeezed him harder.

  “What?” he asked, staring down at my vice grip on his arm. “What? Eliza, please say something.” He pulled away slowly. “Shit, where’s Ben?”

  “Right here.” Ben stormed around the corner with my inhaler in hand. “I had to dig around for her inhaler.” He placed the inhaler in my hand and I brought it to my lips, gasping for dear life, sucking in and pressing the top to get as much medicine as I could. It would have been embarrassing had my life not been on the line, but I didn’t care that Gage or Ben were watching me. I didn’t even care when Cal came strolling into the living room fully dressed. He was humming but stopped immediately when he saw them standing in front of me with eyes full of concern.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, switching glances between all of us.

  My heart steadied a little with each pump until finally I could breathe again. I inhaled one last time and breathed through my nose, pulling the inhaler away from my mouth.

  “Are you okay, Liza Bear?” Ben asked. I nodded slowly, but my hands were shaking. Gage noticed and swallowed, shaking his head. “What the hell happened?” Ben hissed, smacking Gage on the shoulder.

  “It wasn’t me!” Gage snapped, standing to his feet. “Deed has warned you about Bentley since day one, yet you still keep him around. Why the hell can’t you just dump his ass?”

  Dump him? What did he mean dump him?

  “Bentley is a huge part of this crew. He takes care of the drivers of the buses, handles the maps, and makes sure we get to each destination on time and safely.”

  Gage’s frowned deepened. “Bentley is a fucking asshole.” I finally noticed how shaky Ben’s voice was before. Why did his voice waver? Gage shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “Bentley almost… kicked Eliza.”

  I shuddered, begging my body not to relive it. Ben stilled at my side and sucked in a breath. “What do you mean kicked her? Why would he try to kick her?” There was rage in his voice.

  Gage folded his arms, taking a step back and cocking his head at the door. “I don’t know. How about you go ask him? You’re the closest one to him besides Deed. If I see him, I’m fucking him up.”

  Ben shoved past Gage and rushed for the door.

  “Gage,” I croaked. I was still shaking. Gage looked down at me and, sitting beside me, pulled me into him. “Why would you say that to him? You shouldn’t have told him. It might ruin the tour.”

  “Today’s show probably has to be cancelled anyway. Might as well settle differences.” He shrugged. “Besides, had he really kicked you, his ass would’ve been handed to him on a silver platter.” He looked me over briefly, his eyes depressing. He grabbed my hands and kissed the tops of them. “Why didn’t you come for me? He could’ve hurt you, Eliza.”

  I shrugged, shaking my head. It would have been too late. “I couldn’t let him hit Deed again, Gage. Someone had to step in the way.”

  “You’re so tiny, Eliza. He could have hurt you way more than he could’ve hurt Deed.”

  I sighed and that’s when Cal cleared his throat. “So, no show today?” he asked.

  Gage shook his head. “Most likely not.”

  Pressing his lips, Cal nodded and turned on his heels to get down the hallway again. Gage sighed, pulling me into him again and kissing my forehead. “What was that?” he asked.

  “What?” I whispered, knowing exactly what he was talking about. It was better to play dumb.

  “That… the wheezing and gasping. Were you having an anxiety attack?”

  “Something like that.” I sighed. I looked up and Gage smiled warmly, making me want to sink against him even more. “I have a small case of PTSD.” His eyebrows lifted as if I’d spoken another language and I laughed at his twisted face, shaking my head. “Post traumatic stress disorder.”

  He frowned at that. “Why? What happened before?”

  I bit on my lower lip, refusing to go there again. Going there meant thinking about the past and I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want the flashbacks to surface so I turned into his arms even more and shook my head.

  “I get it.” He sighed. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

  I was glad he understood. I didn’t want to panic again. “Sorry your show got cancelled,” I murmured as he hugged me.

  “It’s not your fault,” he whispered, leaning against the sofa. “It’s no one’s fault but Bentley’s. The security guards helped get Deed to a hospital. They think he has a fractured rib. He’s pretty banged up. He won’t even talk to me.”

  I shook my head, hating to hear that. Gage’s grip tightened around me and soon he began panting unevenly through his nostrils. I looked up, confused about why his body had gotten so tense. “Gage, what’s wrong?”

  “I just…” He shook his head, pulling away from me. “I feel like it’s my fault that Bentley kept getting that close to him. I was supposed to be with him—” He stopped talking again, sighing and running his hands over his face. “Every time Deed would leave from a party early, Bentley would find him. Deed told me last night. He thinks he can escape him, but it’s like Bentley is constantly on the lookout for him. He gets mad when Deed isn’t with the band.

  “At first, Bentley started hitting him because he expected perfection. He’d told Deed a long time ago that if he wanted to be a part of the band, he had to act like the professional he wanted to be. That meant with drumming, he couldn’t miss a beat. Bentley is a master at the drums and hearing Deed fuck up one time—one time… Bentley got on him for it. He got so upset that he gave him a black eye. Deed had to cover it up for weeks.”

  Gage stopped talking and my breathing stifled as I finally heard the truth about his black eye. So Gage knew why he’d had it all along. He knew since day one but kept it a secret. I wondered if Montana and Roy knew as well. When Deed wore sunglasses, I was sure most people thought of it as a fashion statement and looked past it, but not me. Not us. Not when I knew what was really behind those sunglasses. Gage played it off extremely well.

  “Why haven’t you guys told Ben?”

  “Ben?” He shook his head, laughing dryly. “Ben’s probably at Bentley’s trailer kissing him as we speak.”

  I gasped, smacking his arm with no intentions of being playful. “Why would you say that?” I snapped.

  “Because they date, Eliza. It isn’t obvious? Ben isn’t the only fruit in the vegetable garden.” Gage revealed a small smile and I couldn’t help but snicker at that. The snickering didn’t last long for me, though. Not when I realized Ben had been hiding it from me.

  Ben was very secretive about his love life. I didn’t mind him being gay. It didn’t steer me away or make me think less of him. I wouldn’t have cared if he’d told me about Bentley. He didn’t make it obvious that he was dating him, but I did notice how Ben always mentioned having a night out with a few friends. I put it all together then. By “friends” he meant a night out with his “friend” Bentley.

  “So he hasn’t gotten rid of Bentley because he likes him?”

  “More like love.” Gage sneered. “Ben and Bentley have been messing around for a while.”

  “Well, loves him. Whatever.” I waved it off.

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “Bentley was around way before the band even got popular. He was our driver for a while and Deed hated it because it meant Bentley had no choice but to attend every show. Deed was always so stiff around him, so… out of it. He hardly talked while Bentley was around, and I picked up on it. Of course he would brush it off and say it was nothing, but I found out one day. I witnessed Deed’s bruises and black eyes when I paid him a random visit. It’s a shame that it’s dragged on for this long. Bentley is better to Ben than he is to his own stepson. That’s the sad part about it all.”

  “Stepson?” I questioned, my eyebrows shooting up. Perhaps Deed and I had more in common than I thought.

  “Yeah.” Gage cleared his throat, running the palms of his ha
nds over his face again. “Just… don’t say anything to anyone,” he said, looking at me sternly.

  “Why would I, Gage? I’d never stoop that low.”

  “I believe you. I’m just saying. Montana and Roy don’t even know… at least not yet.”

  I shrugged off his statement and as soon as I felt stable enough, I stood to my feet and went for the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of water and gulped it down and then Ben came bustling in, letting us know that the show was indeed cancelled for today and that he’d sent Bentley home. Ben made a call to the hospital a few minutes after and told us Deed had fractured a rib and was bruised up pretty badly. They had to stitch up his forehead and left hand.

  I felt terribly sorry for Deed and wanted to visit, but Gage told me not to worry about it and that he and the band would send my condolences along with a few playful kisses. I tried to be happy after he left, but as I turned around, I felt even more terrible.

  Ben sat at the table, sighing a dozen times over a short glass of Jack Daniels. I felt awful because a part of me knew I was the reason he had to tell Bentley to leave. It was the man he loved versus his daughter and his career. I was grateful he’d chosen his career and me because there were people I knew who would choose a man over their own child… over their own future. I couldn’t fill the hole I knew was carved into his chest with my love. My daughterly love wasn’t the kind of love he was seeking.

  I hadn’t seen Ben so down since my mom robbed us of everything. It was my senior year and Ben and I had taken a mini trip to Virginia Beach so he could take care of some business. When we got back home, the house was completely destroyed. Most of our valuables were gone—the TVs, the silverware, the chinaware, our couches… even our beds were stolen. Everything was missing and we knew it was my mom who’d done it. She was envious, angry that I’d finally decided to move in with Ben. She’d threatened us a million times, but we never thought she would actually go through with it.

  The only thing that was left in that apartment the day we were robbed that made me actually think she cared about me were my art supplies. They were untouched, sitting in the same corner of the room, and seeing that made me break down.