Leaving Home by Chase, A. (life books to read .txt) 📗

things couldn’t be that bad. At least Peter was still breathing, even if he couldn’t see a damn thing.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it when you put Peter here in the first place.”

“I know.”

“Randy, leave Chaz alone.”

A third voice joined the conversation, and Peter wondered how many people were

standing in his room without him knowing. God, he hoped he was wearing clothes because it would totally suck if he was naked.

“I promise that the minute he opens his eyes, I’ll leave. I just want to see him open his eyes for a second.” Chaz coughed, and somehow it sounded like there were tears in his voice.

“He means everything to me. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“No one ever means for accidents to happen, Chaz, but you could have prevented it.”

Randy said.

Exhaustion washed over Peter, and he fought against the urge to sink back into the

darkness he’d swum up from. He wanted to give Chaz the one thing he seemed to need so

desperately. Gathering all his strength and last bit of energy, he prised his eyes opened.

The man called Chaz was standing right next to Peter’s bed, and his hand rested on

Peter’s arm. Peter blinked, knowing there was something really important about the guy.

Could Peter be in love with him as well? He grunted in annoyance at not being able to

remember anything.

“Peter, do you know where you are?”

Chaz turned to look at Peter after Randy spoke, and Peter found himself surrounded by

the pain and guilt swirling in Chaz’s gaze.

“It’s all right,” Peter tried to say, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work, and the

darkness swelled up to drag him back down before he could do anything more than meet

Chaz’s eyes.

* * * *

When Peter opened his eyes, he found himself staring at Chaz, who was sitting in a

chair next to the bed Peter was lying in.

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“Where am I? What happened?” He caught sight of the bandage on Chaz’s forehead.

“Are you all right?”

Chaz cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Came out of the accident with only minor

scrapes and bruises. You’re in the hospital, Peter. We hit an on-coming truck.”

“How long have I been here?” Peter tried to move, but pain stabbed him like a knife,

causing him to whimper.

“It’s been two days since the accident. You woke up for a few seconds yesterday, but

slipped unconscious again. The nurse will be back in a few minutes. She’ll be able to get you your pain meds.” Chaz dropped his gaze to the floor. “I swerved into the other lane, and, since I’d had a few beers, I couldn’t correct the truck enough to get back into our lane.”

Even though his mind was befuddled, Peter heard the guilt in Chaz’s voice and he

focused on his lover.

“I remember hearing you talking to me, and how it was all your fault. Was it really?

Have you been lying to me about the pills? Had you taken drugs before we got in the

vehicle?”

Chaz nodded, then pushed to his feet. He walked to the door of the room. “I took some

before I left the arena, then I had a couple beers at the restaurant. I thought I was okay to drive, but I wasn’t. You almost died.”

Peter realised he was in the strangest place, caught somewhere between loathing and

loving. The tears in his eyes caused Chaz’s image to blur. Peter pressed his hand to his

mouth, waiting until he got his emotions under control.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he admitted.

Chaz stared at him from where he stood on the other side of the room. “I know.”

“I love you so much, but you’ll never love me like I need. You’re in love with the drugs, Chaz, and until you break their hold on you, I’ll always come in a distant second.”

His heart shattered when Chaz didn’t deny what he’d said. Peter wished he could roll

over, and show his back to Chaz, but the cast on his arm and his broken ribs prevented it. So he simply looked away.

“I love you, Peter, but I know I’m not good enough for you. I hope someday I will be,

and that when the time comes you’ll be ready to see me.” Chaz cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”

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Peter listened to Chaz’s footsteps fade as the man walked away from him. Now that he

was alone, he could let the tears fall. He sobbed into his pillow, pounding his mattress with his good hand.

Why did God hate him so much? Hadn’t he always been a good person? Unlike his

family, he didn’t believe that all his bad luck resulted from his being gay. No, God didn’t care about that. There had to be another flaw inside him that made it easy for people to walk away.

“Hush now, honey. It’ll be all right.”

Peter wasn’t surprised when he heard Les’ voice right before a warm body joined him

in the bed. Two strong arms embraced him. He sank into the comfort Les offered him,

knowing he could take all he needed and never be judged weak.

“I saw Chaz leaving,” Les murmured.

Peter hiccupped, then said, “I told him I can’t do it anymore. The drugs are his real love and I’m a distant second.”

“Good for you.”

He jerked when Tony spoke, not having realised there were others in the room.

“He was just going to break your heart. Better to end it now, than have him drag you

down his self-destructive path.” Tony sounded angry. “Hell, he almost got you killed

because he was high.”

“Shut up, Tony. Peter doesn’t need to hear that shit from you.”

Peter had rarely heard Les speak like that to anyone, much less one of his closest

friends, yet there was true anger in his voice as he continued.

“If you can’t keep your opinion to yourself right now, then you can leave. Peter needs

our love and support, not you releasing your anger at Chaz on him.”

Still keeping his eyes closed, Peter held out his good hand. “Tony?”

The callused