"Have they always been like this?"
Seb frowned, leaning forward in the chair. "They always made the odd comment, but never to the extreme they do now. I told you that they turned their backs on Tom when his parents threw him out. I never thought they'd be capable of doing something like that. They'd known Tom for years. Tom was either at our house, or Josh was at his. They were so close." Seb shook his head. "To suddenly have everything taken away from you. Tom must have been so scared."
Geoff would never be able to understand how parents could treat their own children like that. To abandon them simply because of their sexual orientation. Yet, he knew it happened and more regularly than the papers reported. It was a crime that was never seen and he'd witnessed some of them during his thirty-two years. From the boy at school to one of the cases he'd taken on.
They talked some more about nothing important until they heard Tom walk through the door.
"How is he?" Geoff asked him, standing.
"He talked a little. Not much though. I just told him about everything that's happening. He doesn't seem as bad as he was, but it's only been a few weeks."
Seb stood up and walked over to him, putting his hand on the back of Tom's neck. "Want to go home?"
Tom nodded. Geoff noticed that his face was pale and his shoulders were slumped.
"Yeah. Thanks, Geoff, for everything."
Geoff stood up and also walked over to Tom. "You don't have to thank me. Come over whenever you want. He needs to see the people he knows."
Geoff walked to the door and watched Seb and Tom get into Seb's car before shutting the door. He locked up and walked back to the kitchen where he slowly looked up at the ceiling. What was Ben thinking right now? He had to be hurting. He just wished he would let him in to help. Sighing, Geoff made a fresh batch of coffee before going back into his study to resume working the Peterson case.
CHAPTER TWO
Ben Parker lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. He didn't want to get up. He didn't want to do anything. He wanted to lie there and let everything wash over him. Let life forget about him.
His body was heavy, his eyes ached and were puffy to the touch. His throat was scratchy and his chest tight. But, none of that mattered now. How he felt didn't matter now. He couldn't be bothered about anything, and didn't give a shit about his health. He'd lost his friends, and he knew it was his fault.
If only he had fought harder with Adam. If only he'd managed to catch up with him when he'd left the house that night, then none of this would have happened. What made it worse was where he was now living. A nice, warm house with food in the cupboards, a proper bed and hot, clean water. If Adam hadn't have died, they would still be on the streets. It felt like he had somehow gotten lucky because his friend was no longer alive.
He couldn't stop replaying the night Adam had left in his mind. It was the last time he'd seen Adam alive. He kept running through everything he'd said and then changing the words so that Adam had stayed. He kept questioning his actions, the way he spoke, the way he had shouted.
Rolling over onto his side, Ben curled up into a ball. His throat hurt, and he struggled to swallow. He closed his eyes as he clutched the covers to him and rubbed the sheet over his lips before pulling it away and biting his bottom lip hard. It was only when he tasted blood that he stopped. The pain seemed to distract him from his thoughts, but not for long.
Opening his eyes, Ben stared at the light green wallpaper, the same one he had been staring at for weeks now. He glanced around the room, once again taking the decor in. The floorboards had been sanded then varnished an oak colour. The furniture was made of pine, and the curtains and bedding matched the wallpaper. It was a nice room, a room he felt comfortable in, and again Ben was overwhelmed by the guilt that welled up inside of him. There he was enjoying his surroundings when Adam had nothing but a cold, dark room for company.
Part of him wished he had died instead; he deserved it for letting his friend down. He was a worthless piece of shit, and when it came down to it, he couldn't even end his own life. And he'd thought about it. A lot. Never had the guts to do it. He was such a chicken shit, pussy.
Maybe he deserved some good luck of his own after everything he'd experienced. Ben shook his head. What a stupid thought. Of course he didn't. Why was he even thinking like that? He deserved all the shit he'd endured. Probably even more. He was pathetic. Nothing more than a stain.
But, hadn't he suffered enough?
Not according to what his step-dad used to say. That's why he was a worthless piece of shit and had nothing to offer anyone. Shit son, that's what his mum used to say to him. Didn't know why she fed him or kept a roof over his head. Wasting good money on him.
It was his fault his real dad had left. That was what Derek, his step-dad, always said. That was why he beat him. Had to try and beat some worth into him, make him a man, all while his mum would watch, encouraging him.
But, how could it have been his fault? He was just a child. It had to be his fault though, because that was what they'd told him.
Adam had paid the price. He'd died because of him, so maybe they'd had a point. Ben wasn't worth the air he breathed. Why hadn't he died instead?
Every time he closed his eyes he would see Adam. Adam smiling and laughing. Adam somehow enjoying himself, even with the life they had. He always tried to find the good in their situation. No one telling them what to do. No rules to obey. Free, Adam would say, to do what they wanted.
He'd met Adam at Canal Street one Saturday night. Both of them were working at the time. Adam hadn't liked the fact that Ben had approached him. Ben smiled slightly remembering how Adam had acted that night. He'd been a right prickly bastard. Didn't want to give Ben the time of day.
He could remember their first conversation like it had happened yesterday. He'd stood looking at Adam, dressed in his skinny jeans, tight shirt and trainers, watching how he handled potential punters. A little cocky, but he always seemed to get his man. Never gone for too long before he was back, then right back to business.
Even though he hated what he was doing, he couldn't help but admire the ease with which Adam worked. It wasn't until much later when they'd gotten to know each other that he'd confided in him. It took a lot of mental preparation for him to get into the right mindset to do the job.
Ben had approached Adam to talk to him and had managed a muttered, 'Hi.' Adam had turned and stared at him, looking him up and down before he'd turned away, dismissing him.
"What the fuck do you want?" he'd said with a scowl on his face and continued looking for work.
That had made Ben pause. He hadn't been sure if he should continue. "I just wanted to say hi."
"Well you've said it, so fuck off."
Ben had been startled by the way Adam had spoken to him. At the time, he'd thought he'd made a mistake coming over to speak to him. Nodding his head, he'd turned to walk away, mumbling, "Okay, sorry man."
"How long?"
Ben had turned back to Adam. "What?"
Adam had sighed before asking again. "Doing this. How long?"
"Not long. Why?"
"It shows."
"What do you mean, 'it shows?'" Ben scowled at Adam.
Adam had waved a hand in his direction. "The way you act, the way you stand. Everything shows you're new at this. Unless it's an act. Is it? Does it work? How many a night?"
"Look, I've only been doing this a couple of months, so I guess it shows. I have no idea what I'm doing here." Ben swallowed. "I'm just trying to survive. I need help."
Adam had slowly looked him up and down again. "Yep, you definitely need help."
"Will you?"
"Will I what?" Adam had asked while smiling smugly at him.
"Will you help me?"
"I'll think about it." With that, Adam had turned and walked away from him, leaving him standing there staring at him.
The next time Ben had seen Adam, he'd taken him to a small cafe, explained everything to him, and that
had been the start of their friendship.
A knock on the bedroom door brought him out of the past and back into the present. He frowned, tensing as he stared at the opening door. He watched Geoff walk into the room and smile slightly at him.
"I'm about to cook some dinner. Nothing much, just a stew. Would you like some?"
"No," Ben answered as he shook his head.
Geoff frowned at him before commenting, "You've not eaten today, and I know you didn't each much yesterday either. You need to have something."
"I'm not hungry."
Geoff walked closer, squatting by the side of the bed. "You need to eat, Ben. This isn't good for you."
"I said, I wasn't hungry," Ben told him through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes at Geoff.
Geoff sighed. "Please eat something. You're going-"
"I said no! Now fuck off!" Ben screamed at him. Why couldn't the guy just leave him the fuck alone! He watched Geoff's face harden as he stood. Geoff nodded and then left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. As soon as the door closed, the tension left Ben's muscles and he sighed.
The guy just couldn't take a hint! Yeah, he should be grateful that he was letting him stay in his house, but he just didn't give a shit about that, well, about anything actually. He just wanted to lie there and be left alone to do nothing. He had no appetite, no desire to get up, and no desire to do anything.
Maybe part of him wanted to get kicked out. It would make things easier for him. On the streets, he could disappear and never be seen again. On the streets, it wouldn't take too long for something to happen to him, something he deserved. Then he wouldn't have to end his own life. The choice would be taken from him. He clearly couldn't do it himself. The one time he'd worked up the guts to do it, he'd failed. He was that useless he couldn't even kill himself.
He heard the knock on the door but didn't turn towards it when it opened. He was aware of Geoff walking over to him and putting something on the bedside cabinet next to him. He ignored him when he stood there looking at him. He heard Geoff sigh and then leave the room, closing the door behind him. He turned to see what Geoff had left, finding a sandwich and what looked like some juice in a glass.
He rolled over away from the food and faced the bedroom wall. He didn't want the food, hadn't he told him that? Why did he keep on doing this? He just wanted to be left alone, left to lie there and not do anything. He didn't want to do anything. He didn't want to live. Why couldn't anyone understand that? Tom, Matt and Luke kept coming to see him. Kept trying to draw him out and make him be a part of things. They were out of that world and looked like they might have a chance at a normal life, but that wasn't for him. He had nothing to give, nothing to offer.
He was worthless. Why couldn't anyone see that?
❊❊❊
Geoff walked downstairs, leaving the food, and knew Ben wouldn't eat any of it. He'd been trying to get him to eat and come out of his room, but nothing seemed to be working. It looked like it was time for some form of intervention. Ben needed to see a doctor or psychiatrist. Geoff knew Ben had issues, and he didn't think they were all related to what he had been doing on the streets either. Tom, Matt and Luke had all lived that same life, and they appeared to be adjusting well now. He knew that Ben might be suffering from depression; his friend had been murdered, and he hadn't been there to help him.
Walking into his study, Geoff dropped heavily into the chair, staring out of the window. He rested his chin on his hand, thinking about his next course of action. What did he do? Did he leave Ben and see if his behaviour changed? Or did he intervene? How would Ben react if he did intervene?
Making his decision, Geoff picked up his contacts list and thumbed through until he found the number he wanted. Dr Clara Rimmer. He'd worked on a case with her a couple of years back. One of the first important cases he'd taken on. During the case, they'd become good friends and had kept in touch. Geoff knew if anyone could help, it would be Clara.
Checking the time to make sure it wasn't too late, Geoff dialled her number and waited for her to answer. After a couple of rings, he heard her voice.
"Hello, Dr Rimmer speaking."
"Hi Clara. It's me, Geoff."
"Hi, how're you doing?" she answered warmly.
"I'm good, thanks. How's the family doing?"
"We're all good. Thanks for asking. Now, why don't you tell me why you called?"
"What? I need a reason to call now?" Geoff laughed.
"Never, but knowing you, you would normally still be in the office working, not calling me," Clara told him.
"You're good. I'll give you that." Geoff laughed again. Damn, Clara was good. "Yeah, you're right, I do need some advice."
"Alright. Tell me what's happening, and I'll see what I can do."
Geoff spent the next few minutes explaining the situation to Clara, who asked a couple of questions but mainly remained quiet. When he'd finished, he sat in silence waiting for Clara to respond.
"So this behaviour he's displaying now has only started since the murder?"
"Yes. The attempted suicide happened after that."
"When he was released from the hospital, were any appointments set up for him?"
Geoff sighed. "Yes. He refused to go to any. I'm at a loss now as to how to help him. I've suggested seeing a counsellor, but he refused. To be honest, I'm struggling to get Ben to meet his most basic needs."
"Do you know why he ended up on the streets?" Good question.
"No, and I've spoken to the other three he lived with, and they didn't know either. It appears he didn't speak about it. It's frustrating. He appears to be fighting me every step of the way." Geoff sighed again, running a hand through his hair and slumping back in his chair.
Clara was silent again, and Geoff assumed she was thinking over what he'd told her. "Are you aware of the five stages of loss and grief?" She finally asked.
Geoff frowned. Five stages? "No, I've never heard of it. What is it and do you think Ben might be going through it?"
"There are five stages. First, there is denial and isolation, then anger followed by bargaining, depression and acceptance. You said Ben has isolated himself in his room. I wouldn't be surprised if he isn't going through scenarios in his mind and thinking of different outcomes if he had behaved differently. I wouldn't be surprised if he starts to display some anger at you. Shouting and throwing things. Have you seen any new marks or scratches on him?" Clara asked him.
"Not that I'm aware of, but I don't think he's showered much recently, so I can't answer that for you."
"Alright, I finish work early tomorrow, so I'll come and see Ben then. I'm not anticipating anything happening from this meeting, but at least I'll be able to see him and observe his behaviours."
Geoff sighed in relief rubbing his face. It felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off of him. "Thank you, Clara. You have no idea how grateful I am to you for coming."
"You might be, but I don't think Ben will be."
They talked for a few more minutes, catching up on events in each other's lives before they said their goodbyes. Geoff leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head twisting his neck from side to side, releasing some of the tension gathered there.
Dropping his arms, Geoff sighed. He knew Ben was going to be furious with him for what he'd arranged, but it was for his benefit. Ben needed help, and Geoff hoped that this would be a step in the right direction. Part of him wondered if Ben would leave when he became aware of what was happening. He hoped not. The streets were certainly a place Ben shouldn't be anywhere near given his current frame of mind. He'd suffered enough.
What Geoff couldn't understand was why Ben would want to continue to suffer when it wasn't his fault. Maybe Clara was right, and this was part of the loss and grieving process he needed to work through. Whatever it was, Geoff would do the best he could to help Ben through it.
CHAPTER THREE
Geoff knocked on the bedroom door the next morning. There was no r
esponse from inside the room. Trying again, Geoff knocked and waited. Again there was nothing. Sighing, Geoff opened the door and slowly entered the room.
A quick glance was enough for Geoff to see that Ben wasn't in the room. Frowning, he walked out of the bedroom and quickly checked the other rooms upstairs. When they all came up empty, Geoff called Ben's name, but there was no answer.
Walking back downstairs, Geoff searched the rooms until he found Ben sat in the living room, staring out of the window. Ben didn't acknowledge Geoff's presence or that he'd heard him calling his name. He remained sat in the chair, oblivious.
Geoff stood looking Ben over. It was clear he hadn't showered. His hair was greasy, overgrown and unkempt. The clothes he wore, he'd been wearing for several days now and were stained and wrinkled. As he approached him, Geoff could smell the stale, sweaty body odour pouring off of him and he grimaced. He couldn't allow this to continue.
Standing next to Ben, Geoff waited for him to acknowledge his presence, but after a couple of minutes, Geoff realised that wasn't going to happen. He'd planned on going into work today, but staring down at Ben, he wasn't sure whether he should do or if he should stay at home instead. He could have some files sent over, and he would be able to access any other information he needed from his computer at home. It wasn't the same as physically being in work, being able to interact with staff, see their facial expressions and body language, but it would have to do.
Geoff knew he couldn't keep Ben locked up, and he wanted him to come out of the bedroom and explore the house. But, a part of him was concerned as to what he would do when he was on his own. Would he try to hurt himself? Find a knife or pills and kill himself? Geoff couldn't allow that to happen. He had to try to reach Ben somehow.
Squatting in front of Ben, Geoff smiled. "Good morning, Ben. Did you sleep well?" He asked.
New Beginnings (Second Chances Book 2) Page 2