Masao backed off as Casper's heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

"What's going on in here?" His profile appeared in the doorway accompanied by his usual beastly voice, which quickly faded into sudden concern: "Ben? What happened?"

"He fell." Masao replied so quickly that even Pinocchio would have believed him a liar.

My forehead still hurt, but I hadn't seen any signs in the mirror. Instead, it seemed quite visible.

"I told you to watch him!" Cas growled.

A thick silence fell for a few seconds, violently interrupted by Masao leaving the bathroom with angry strides.

I couldn't catch anything. I didn't know what those two had said with their eyes, or what that silence meant.

I was tired.

"Did you really fall?"

It would have been devilishly funny to say that Masao had hit me. I would have set off a tiny nuclear bomb in Casper's life.

But I really believed it was another one of his lapdogs who attacked me.

"I fell." Technically, it wasn't a lie. I fell before being slammed against the wall.

Casper walked towards me, reached out a hand, and for a moment I was sure he wanted to touch my cheek, wanted to bring his lips close to mine.

I remained still, waiting. I should have stepped back, moved aside, pushed him away. Instead, I stood there waiting.

He didn't touch my cheek. He passed his thumb over my forehead, pressing on the softest area of the wound, making me let out a groan.

"It's late. I'll take you home."

What?

"I don't want to go home." I hadn't discovered a damn thing yet, except that one of Jack's little friends really didn't like me.

I wanted to talk to all the gang members, I was sure I could get at least a clue about what Casper was up to.

"Then tell me the real reason you wanted to join the gathering."

"I told you. To investigate."

I was almost sure Cas's face had put on an angry grimace, but I was tired, my eyes were still half-blinded by the fire, and I didn't have the will to focus.

"I asked you to investigate the sender of the letter. My guys have nothing to do with it."

"Of course, because your guys are all good boys who would never act behind their saintly leader's back."

There was a sudden snap. I was still on edge from the recent beating, and my hands moved instinctively to protect my sore stomach.

Cas froze, and I cursed under my breath.

He grabbed my wrist to get rid of my hand.

"Hey! No! Let me go!"

He lifted my shirt just enough to reveal the bruise that was surely already staining my white skin.

"Who did this?" His anger was icy. It wasn't an uncontrollable outburst; it was careful, calculated. Casper's anger could be very patient.

"I don't know."

Cas grabbed me by the lapel with such force that I was sure he was dying to shake me like a doll. "Tell me."

In response, I pushed him back with all the strength I had. He let go, but didn't give me the satisfaction of staggering.

"I. DON'T. KNOW. It was dark. It happened near the stairs. I didn't see anything."

And even though I could still see very little, I didn't miss the way Cas bristled up like a stray dog raising its fur to look bigger.

I sighed. I was really too tired to deal with all this drama. "When I left, did you see if anyone was missing..."

"It wasn't one of mine," Cas interrupted me. "I told them not to touch you. It must have been someone else."

I was literally speechless at that disjointed logic.

"It's a dangerous neighborhood," he tried to escalate, but to my ears, he sounded unsure himself of what he was saying. "I don't know what happened, but I assure you it wasn't one of mine. Let's go. I don't want you staying here. I'll take you home."

"Are you kidding me?" A hysterical laugh escaped me. I was completely thrown off. "I've been... I've just been beaten up while I couldn't see a damn thing! Do you care? Do you care more about protecting them rather than..."

"I care about protecting you," he asserted without a hint of embarrassment. "But you're getting the wrong idea. If I found Carli with a bruise and you there next to her, I would never think that you hit her. The same thing is happening here."

"Are you comparing me hitting your little sister with that trash from the slammer beating up the albino twink you're bringing around?"

"Don't talk about them like that." His voice became low and dark. "I'm also trash from the slammer."

"I know that very well."

The terrible thing about knowing someone for so long is that you know exactly how to hurt them.

After all, it was a mistake to go back there.

Casper didn't try to stop me as I passed him to leave the bathroom. I grabbed my backpack, hat, glasses, and headed for the door.

"Wait. Ben." He caught up with me on the street, where the lampposts illuminated the neighborhood enough for me to identify the edges of the sidewalk.

I didn't want to wait for him. I kept walking.

"It's dark," he said as if I could somehow have missed this detail. "Ben!" He stood in front of me, blocking my path. "It's late. Please, let me take you home."

"Am I your damn damsel in distress? Move. I can go home by myself."

He didn't move, so I began to walk around him, managing to take even two steps before tripping over something. "Fuck!" I regained my balance just as Cas grabbed me to keep me upright.

I felt a sudden wave of panic followed by furious anger. I shoved him violently, and then raised my hands again to hit him.

"Truce! Truce!"

I panted, stuck where I was. I lowered my hands. I felt like crying. I felt so humiliated and vulnerable... They had beaten me up effortlessly. I hadn't been able to do anything to defend myself, I just stood there, trying to figure out what was going on.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach, pressing until it hurt.

"Are you okay?"

I shook my head, feeling tears welling up under my eyelids.

It was only a moment before Casper pulled me close to him as he used to. I surrendered. I took a deep breath. I rested my cheek on his shoulder, and immediately his fingers began to stroke my hair.

We existed in an unreal moment where neither of us had ever stabbed the other, and I knew I would never rid myself of the desire for that moment to be real.

His heart beat louder than mine, or perhaps I had learned to perceive that sound above all others.

"I'll go get the bike and helmet. It won't take long. Don't disappear. Please."

He let me go, and without that steady contact, all the bitterness returned. Why can't it be simple? Why can't you love me enough to leave all this shit behind?

The rumble of his motorcycle grumbled softly, and the light from the headlight was approaching.

Casper handed me the helmet, and I felt the edges to figure out which was the front and which was the back. As soon as I put on that thing, I was enveloped in total darkness.

I felt exhausted from the constant need to stay on guard, but Casper's presence eased that need, acting like a protective wall. I didn't want it to be like that, I didn't want to depend on him, I didn't want to be protected.

I climbed on with a groan of pain. The adrenaline from the assault was fading now, leaving me with nothing but bruises and a throbbing pain.

I placed my hands on Casper's hips, and he moved them so they encircled his waist.

His touch lingered longer than necessary, pressing against my skin.

"Go slow."

In response, he squeezed my wrist one last time before letting go completely.

We glided smoothly on the asphalt as if we were sliding slowly on water. When we took the first curve, I barely noticed.

I felt safe enough to close my eyes and enjoy the cold January air blowing against my legs.

During the journey, my mind lost itself in recapping the events of those days. Someone who knew Cas's secrets had threatened him with a letter. Cas and his whole gang had blocked me out of school to ask me to investigate the sender, and two days later I was mysteriously attacked at a Coyote rally?

Was the purpose to intimidate me enough to make me stop poking my nose around?

It was logical to think that at least one of the Coyotes was involved in the letter issue and had decided to scare me to stop the investigation.

But when they ambushed me at school, Cas and I had secluded ourselves to talk about it. And at the rally, Cas had justified my presence by saying I was doing him a favor.

I had a hunch that Cas hadn't talked to his beloved friends about the letter, just as he hadn't admitted my role in this story.

So what? Were they beating me up just for fun?

I told them not to touch you.

I couldn't believe that someone who had known Cas for more than five minutes would risk his wrath just to satisfy the whim of beating up a queer boy.

The assailant wanted to intimidate me, and he was willing to risk a lot to succeed. So he knew I was investigating, and he was worried that I might discover his involvement.

So. How did the assailant know I was investigating and that I had realistic chances of finding out what was going on? The only one who knew me well enough to draw logical conclusions about my presence there was Masao. Was it really him in the end?

Or perhaps...

The motorcycle slowed to a stop. Cas straightened up on the saddle and turned off the engine. We had arrived.

I started laughing to myself, like a madman.

"Ben? Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just stupid."

I had mentioned the Roller Rink to the Coyotes, hoping they would let slip what place it was. The author of the letter would immediately prick up his ears at the mention of the meeting place set by the blackmailer. Could this have been enough to make the culprit believe that I had read the letter and was looking for information about it?

I took off the helmet and blinked to get used to the light from the lamps in my garden.

I had been talking to Bob and Cole when I mentioned the Roller Rink, but I had no idea who else might have overheard. I couldn't rule out any suspects yet.

I got off the bike, stumbling to touch the ground, and returned the helmet to its owner.

"Thanks for the ride." I started walking along the driveway.

"Benjamin!"

Right. It couldn't be that simple. Ignore him. Move on.

I stopped and turned around. "What?"

"I'll find whoever attacked you, and I'll make them pay."

I gritted my teeth, clenched my fists, tensed my shoulders. What a fucking nuisance. "No. I will find who attacked me. And I'll make them regret being born."

Casper laughed, getting off the bike to stand in front of me. "I would never want to be your enemy. You're terrible. Franklin Durgo still goes to the psychiatrist."

"Because you broke his knees!" I retorted, scandalized by that accusation.

"You convinced him that nobody loved him!" The brute was still laughing.

I hadn't done anything so scandalous. My retaliation had been perfectly appropriate considering I was sent to the hospital with second-degree burns.

After being discharged, I did some minor research and found out that Franklin's parents were getting a divorce, so I let the little hoodlum stumble upon some "reports" of the hearing where Mom and Dad Durgo argued because neither of them wanted to deal with their disgusting son.

It brightened my day every time I heard him sobbing in the bathroom.

"He deserved it."

Locking me in the courtyard had only been his latest bullying tactic. Throughout elementary school, he had enjoyed ripping my glasses off my face and shining a flashlight into my eyes to blind me.

"Yeah, but you're still terrible." I could hear from his voice that he was smiling. He found it adorable that I was fierce.

His head snapped upward, and I turned to see what he was looking at. A light had turned on in the kitchen window.