For the fans, p.52
For The Fans, page 52
The crowd erupts in cheers and howls while we watch Guty do his celebratory dance in the end zone.
“That’s my brother right there!” the guy behind us shouts.
My eyes follow Kyran off the field as I send him as many good vibes as possible. We still need to keep Notre Dame from scoring, and then score once more to win.
Almighty Tom Brady… We need a miracle.
Notre Dame’s quarterback, Connor Devlin, takes the field with his guys, and I can tell they mean business. Our defense is working hard at choking them up, but they’re moving slowly up the field.
Gazing down at Kyran on the bench, I can see his knee bouncing the way mine was earlier. I wish I could be down there…
“It’s not over until it’s over, baby…” I whisper.
Devlin throws an incomplete, and two more attempts at running get them nowhere. So they go for a field goal.
“I don’t want to pray for anyone to fail, but Father, make this boy miss,” Guty’s mom whimpers. Bridget and I can’t help but laugh.
Notre Dame’s kicker kicks. The ball soars.
I hold my breath.
And the ref’s arms go out at his sides. No good.
“Yes!” We all jump up screaming, hugging onto each other in a huddle while we bounce around.
“Oh my God, they’re gonna do it!” Bridget cries.
“Shut up! Don’t jinx them.” I yank her back down into her seat.
We’re clutching one another, watching as Theo punts the ball. Two minutes left in the game. And Kyran is preparing to take the field one last time.
This is the moment of truth… The make or break.
If we can score one more touchdown, we’ll be NCAA Champions.
I’m not breathing. The noise around me has faded into the background, and all I can hear is the thump of my heart… As if it’s mirroring the thump in Kyran’s chest.
He moves gracefully, stepping like it’s a delicate dance, launching the ball in a way that feels almost godlike. He’s truly incredible to watch. The strength and the focus, the way he breathes the game in and out of his lungs.
Kyran Harbor was meant to do this. Plain and simple. Right now, it’s as clear as crystal.
He’s going to the NFL. There’s no way he isn’t.
And for the first time, that thought doesn’t scare me. It doesn’t fill me with worry or doubt, about him leaving Boston. This is bigger than any of that…
Football is his destiny.
And cards on the table, I will gladly follow him wherever he goes. If he wants me to…
First down after first down, they drive, and it’s tense. It’s fucking suffocating, but they do it. And when he finally finds his shot, Kyran takes it.
His arm flies up. The ball soars.
Guty catches it.
Touchdown.
The Eagles just won the fucking Rose Bowl, baby.
I’m not sure I’ve ever spazzed so hard in my life. We’re all jumping and screaming. I’m hugging Bridget and she’s crying. Guty’s family is alerting nearby dogs with their high-pitched squeals of delight.
It’s fucking epic. I can’t believe it… Except that I can, because my man is that good.
I’ve literally never been so proud.
“Your boyfriend is gonna get drafted,” Bridget sobs in my ear, and I chuckle while she shakes me around. “Where do you think he’s gonna go?!”
“Hopefully somewhere nice,” I sigh, my mind spinning through thoughts of various places in this great big country.
And hopefully he’d want me to come, too.
Biting my lip, I watch as Theo nails the extra point, and we all cheer for him because really, he’s the one who just solidified the whole thing. I never thought about it before… how much the team relies on their kicker. Theo is amazing at what he does. I hope he doesn’t give himself too much grief for missing one field goal in an entire season.
But if he’s anything like Kyran, I’m sure he’ll be beating himself up.
Kyran is just so fucking adorable right now, I can’t stand it. He and Guty are hanging all over each other, their teammates crowding around them in widespread celebration. Notre Dame’s offense lingers, with only fifteen seconds on the clock, the game is deemed over.
What a rush. A spectacular end to a wild season.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get either of your names,” Guty’s mom says to us over the noise, and “All I Do Is Win” bumping over the speakers.
“I’m Avi,” I tell her. “This is Bridget. Kyran’s sister.”
“Liz Gutierrez.” She grins. “This is my son, Marco.” Guty’s brother nods at us as Liz asks, “Are you two coming to the party?”
I glance at Bridget, anxiety weaseling its way up again. I hadn’t really planned on going to the party… I know Kyran will be the star of the show, and the idea of tagging along makes me feel a little awkward.
But Bridget nudges me. “You know he’s gonna want you there.”
Gulping, I nod hesitantly.
Guty’s mom and brother wave at us as they disappear into the crowd. And I’m even more nervous now… We all know parties full of football players aren’t my scene.
Buck up. You’ll have to get used to it if he goes to the NFL…
I just wish I could see Kyran right now. It’s so different when we’re alone. But every second we’re not together is spent with mountains of doubt rising between us.
My eyes fall back down to the field, where a reporter is interviewing Kyran. He looks so happy. And I’m happy that he’s happy. So I guess that’s all that matters.
“So, what’s up?” Bridget asks. “You wanna go wait for him?”
Watching Kyran, I shake my head. “Nah, he’s doing his thing right now. We can go back to the hotel. That’s where the party is happening, anyway.”
Bridget nods, and we fight the psychotic body traffic out of the stadium until we reach the even more ridiculous car traffic. It takes us a bazillion years to get back to the hotel, and by the time we’re there, I really need a freaking drink.
“Let’s go to the bar,” Bridget says as we walk inside.
“I’m only twenty,” I mumble.
“Ugh, God. I forgot you’re both fetuses,” she scoffs.
I laugh and shake my head. “There’s a minibar in my room.”
Up in my hotel room, we crack open a bottle of tequila and pour two shots to celebrate the BC Eagles being big, fancy NCAA Division I Champions.
“I’m so fucking proud of him…” I breathe as the liquor burns its way down my throat.
“I can see that.” Bridget grins. “You looked like you were gonna die when the ball was in the air that last time.”
I chuckle. “It’s just… I don’t know. Watching him play this entire season, while everything else has been going on between us… I feel like I’ve been a part of it, ya know?” I shake my head, fiddling with my chipped nail polish. “I’ve never felt like that before.”
“You are a part of it, Avi,” she says, and I glance up. “You’re the mascot.” I huff, but she pins me with a look. “I’m serious. I know it seems like a goofy thing, but you were there pumping them up, rooting for them. Rooting for him.”
I purse my lips. “It was just fun to be included.”
“I wasn’t kidding when I said your name came up every time we talked.” She smirks. “Any time I’d call him after a game, he’d be like, ‘And Avi was over there doing the Gangnam Style dance…’”
I laugh out loud while she snickers.
“Dead ass. I didn’t want to piss him off by saying anything, but it was super obvious he never stopped paying attention to you.”
“It was impossible for me to hate him…” I murmur truthfully while she pours two more shots. “Believe me, I tried. He was a real jerk to me at times…”
“I believe it.”
“But underneath it, I always just wanted him to like me. And the high of getting someone like him interested in someone like me was unlike anything…”
“Avi, who are you kidding? You know you’re perfect for him,” she says.
“I don’t know that…”
“Yes, you do. Trust me. I’ve only known you for a day, and I can see it. I saw it last night the second you two walked in and sat down next to each other, like there was no possible way you could be apart. You’re exactly what my brother needs. Someone supportive and patient, who’s gonna love him no matter what. Someone who calls him on his bullshit and loves the stubborn out of him.”
We take our shots, and she breathes out slowly. “But mostly, someone who will stay by his side. He doesn’t need to be abandoned any more…”
“Bridget, he doesn’t hold that against you,” I tell her, and her deep amber eyes slink to mine. In this light, you can see so much of Tom in her.
“But you do…” she whispers.
My jaw tightens, but I shake my head. “It’s not my place.”
“Bullshit. You’re family. And now, you’re also Kyran’s partner. It is your place to be pissed off on his behalf.”
I slump back in my chair and sigh. “I guess it’s just that I don’t understand why you left. I don’t get the whole thing… I don’t understand why Kyran is so convinced your family split up because of him.”
Bridget’s eyes set on the marble island between us as she mumbles, “It wasn’t his fault…”
“No shit,” I grunt. “But why does he feel like that?? It makes no fucking sense.”
She pours more booze into her cup, whipping it back. “Because our asshole father made him feel like it was.”
What…?
My gaze at her narrows. “Why? Why would Tom do that to a twelve-year-old kid?”
Bridget goes quiet for a moment, the suspense and angst building a thickness in the air. “It’s not my place to tell you about it… You should hear it from Kyran.”
Raking my fingers through my hair, I yank it. “You and I both know he won’t. And I need to know. Bridget, I’m really starting to freak out here. You’re making me think it’s like… something bad.”
When her gaze slides back up to mine, there are tears glistening her eyes. “It is bad, Avi. It was the worst thing that’s ever happened to anyone I know… And it happened to my baby brother.”
Oh God… This is too much. Jesus, I’m freaking the fuck out.
My gut is churning so hard I feel nauseous. I know it’s not right for me to demand answers… I know that. I should wait for Kyran to confide in me when he’s ready.
But I also know that if he’s suffering, stuffing down something awful from his past and pretending it doesn’t exist, that’s really not healthy. I want to be able to help him. To love him, no matter what.
“Just promise you won’t leave him…” Bridget whispers.
“I won’t fucking leave him unless he wants me to…” I shiver out the words. “Because I’ll do anything for him, even if it kills me,” I tell her with my fullest sincerity.
After all, it’s true. Kyran Harbor is the love of my life. That’s it.
I’ve fallen. Hook, line, and sinker, he has my whole heart.
Bridget slinks off her chair, padding across the room to her purse. She plucks her phone out of it, tapping away while I’m just staring at her, my heart beating its way up my esophagus.
She glares at something on the screen before sighing and sliding her phone over to me.
Picking it up, my eyes travel, reading the words. At first, I have no idea what I’m looking at… A legal document, or a settlement of some kind?
But the more I read, my heart proceeds to snap in half in my chest.
And with each word that follows, it cracks and slits and crumbles, my fingers shaking with rage and despair as I scroll down to the end.
There’s a picture.
“Is…” My voice will barely creep from my throat, I’m so shocked and appalled. So disgusted and angry and horrified. “Is this real? This is… him?”
Bridget sniffles, and I know she’s crying. But I can’t pry my eyes away from the phone in front of me. Every single fiber of my being is thrumming with wrath, woven around strands of aching empathy for my stepbrother.
The man I love. My family.
No matter what he is to me, even if he was a stranger, this would make me sick to my stomach. I feel myself retch as I shove the phone away, covering my face with my hands.
“Oh my God…” I’m quaking.
Sick and sad and more enraged than I’ve ever felt before.
“That’s Father McAdams,” Bridget whimpers, then snarls with the same fury I’m feeling in my veins. “The fucking monster who raped my brother when he was twelve.”
No… No, no, no, this isn’t true.
It can’t be.
Kyran… A soft sound escapes me as I rip my hair out of my head.
The words are spinning in my mind, being read aloud in my own voice.
The archdiocese has agreed to dismiss and laicize Father James McAdams of Cathedral of the Holy Cross in South Boston, per out of court settlement with the family of Kyran Thomas Harbor, Somerville, MA.
The Church will pay out a sum of one-point-four million dollars to the family. Settlement professes nondisclosure…
“Bridget… I’m gonna be sick…” I cough, barely even recognizing my own voice as I stand up and sprint to the bathroom.
Heaving with my face on fire, I throw up the booze I just consumed. But I’m numb… I don’t feel the burn and the wrenching pain in my gut. All I feel is excruciating, throbbing anger.
Falling back on my knees, I force myself to breathe, steadying enough to stand up on wobbly legs. I rinse my mouth out and splash water on my face, eyes traveling up to my reflection in the mirror. And I remember…
I remember the times I’ve seen Kyran do this.
Staring at himself in the mirror, like he’s desperately trying to recognize himself.
Stumbling back into the room, I find Bridget shakily pouring herself another drink.
“A s-settlement??” I stammer, shaking my head.
This is fucking insane. I can’t even process it. It’s like my mind has completely shut down. I think I’m in shock.
She sips her drink, wincing before pushing out a long, hopeless breath. “It was the end of summer before my senior year of high school… Kyran had just come home from church camp, this dumb bullshit our parents used to make us do. I hadn’t gone in a few years, because I’d whined and begged to go to camp with my friends instead. But Kyran was still going. We were supposed to go to the Cape in the morning… I was packing my… swimsuit.” She chokes on the word and releases a quiet sob of a noise before roughly rubbing at her face, like she’s trying to force away the terror of an awful memory.
“I heard a noise. Like a… thud. Coming from the upstairs bathroom,” she speaks quietly, her wide gaze stuck on the marble countertop. “I rushed to the door and knocked, calling out to Kyran to see if it was him. If he was okay…” She stops again to breathe. “He wasn’t answering me, and the door was locked, so I used a credit card to break in. He was… he was lying on the floor of the tub with the shower running and half the shower curtain ripped down.”
My chest is somehow hollow and pulsing at the same time as she struggles out more words. “I thought he’d fallen, so I rushed over to him. He didn’t look hurt, but he was… staring. Not blinking, just staring. I thought he was dead for a second, and I swear to God, I’ve never been so scared in my life. But then I realized he was breathing… trembling from head to toe.
“I wrapped him in a towel and got him out of the tub… He could barely walk, and I was screaming at him to tell me what was wrong, but he wouldn’t speak.”
I can somehow see everything she’s describing… Young Kyran, frozen in shock.
Broken.
My legs give out and I come crashing to the floor, sitting with my knees bent and my fingers threaded in my hair, gripping my skull.
“When I… mentioned that I was going to call an ambulance, he suddenly snapped out of it and his head started flinging back and forth while he cried no… over and over.” Bridget stops with tears tumbling down her cheeks and she swallows more liquor. “I took him into my room, got him dressed, and put him in my bed… And he was crying and crying. And I was crying because I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew it was bad, you know? When he finally calmed down enough to breathe and speak, he said, ‘Something happened.’” She wipes her nose with her hand, the sorrow on her face palpable. “That’s when I knew… I mean, I didn’t know the details. I didn’t need to… But I knew something terrible had happened to him, and fuck, I just wanted to rip myself open and give him whatever he needed to feel better. But there was nothing I could do… I’d already failed him. Because I didn’t protect him.”
She drops her head to the counter. “I was supposed to protect him.”
Without even realizing it, I’m crying. Silently whimpering grief for the love of my life.
And this brokenness he’s been holding inside for so long.
The room is silent for a while before Bridget continues. “Eventually, he told me what Father McAdams had done… And Avi… I’m telling you that I’ve never wanted so badly to hurt someone in my whole life. That night, I went to the asshole’s house. I took the bus, and I went to his fucking house… and I stood outside, thinking about if I could actually do it. If I could kill him…”
Her head lifts, and our eyes lock. I feel the hatred, the wrath, and the pain, moving between her and me, like a tangible force of energy.
My muscles stiffen and my teeth grind together. I want that, too. I don’t even know this person, but I want him to burn alive in an inferno for all eternity. I want him to know exactly why he’s being punished. I need him to get it.
“Obviously, I didn’t,” she huffs weakly. “He killed himself, by the way. They found him hanging from a light fixture in his study four years ago… With a piece of paper gripped in his fist that said I’m sorry.” She cackles a furiously unamused laugh. “Sorry?! Fuck!” she screams, and I flinch as she jumps up and starts pacing around. She looks so much like Kyran right now, it’s making me feel sick again. “Whatever, that’s not the point. He got off way too easily, as far as I’m concerned. But that night when I came home, it turns out Kyran had told Dad. And do you wanna know what our father said…?”
“That’s my brother right there!” the guy behind us shouts.
My eyes follow Kyran off the field as I send him as many good vibes as possible. We still need to keep Notre Dame from scoring, and then score once more to win.
Almighty Tom Brady… We need a miracle.
Notre Dame’s quarterback, Connor Devlin, takes the field with his guys, and I can tell they mean business. Our defense is working hard at choking them up, but they’re moving slowly up the field.
Gazing down at Kyran on the bench, I can see his knee bouncing the way mine was earlier. I wish I could be down there…
“It’s not over until it’s over, baby…” I whisper.
Devlin throws an incomplete, and two more attempts at running get them nowhere. So they go for a field goal.
“I don’t want to pray for anyone to fail, but Father, make this boy miss,” Guty’s mom whimpers. Bridget and I can’t help but laugh.
Notre Dame’s kicker kicks. The ball soars.
I hold my breath.
And the ref’s arms go out at his sides. No good.
“Yes!” We all jump up screaming, hugging onto each other in a huddle while we bounce around.
“Oh my God, they’re gonna do it!” Bridget cries.
“Shut up! Don’t jinx them.” I yank her back down into her seat.
We’re clutching one another, watching as Theo punts the ball. Two minutes left in the game. And Kyran is preparing to take the field one last time.
This is the moment of truth… The make or break.
If we can score one more touchdown, we’ll be NCAA Champions.
I’m not breathing. The noise around me has faded into the background, and all I can hear is the thump of my heart… As if it’s mirroring the thump in Kyran’s chest.
He moves gracefully, stepping like it’s a delicate dance, launching the ball in a way that feels almost godlike. He’s truly incredible to watch. The strength and the focus, the way he breathes the game in and out of his lungs.
Kyran Harbor was meant to do this. Plain and simple. Right now, it’s as clear as crystal.
He’s going to the NFL. There’s no way he isn’t.
And for the first time, that thought doesn’t scare me. It doesn’t fill me with worry or doubt, about him leaving Boston. This is bigger than any of that…
Football is his destiny.
And cards on the table, I will gladly follow him wherever he goes. If he wants me to…
First down after first down, they drive, and it’s tense. It’s fucking suffocating, but they do it. And when he finally finds his shot, Kyran takes it.
His arm flies up. The ball soars.
Guty catches it.
Touchdown.
The Eagles just won the fucking Rose Bowl, baby.
I’m not sure I’ve ever spazzed so hard in my life. We’re all jumping and screaming. I’m hugging Bridget and she’s crying. Guty’s family is alerting nearby dogs with their high-pitched squeals of delight.
It’s fucking epic. I can’t believe it… Except that I can, because my man is that good.
I’ve literally never been so proud.
“Your boyfriend is gonna get drafted,” Bridget sobs in my ear, and I chuckle while she shakes me around. “Where do you think he’s gonna go?!”
“Hopefully somewhere nice,” I sigh, my mind spinning through thoughts of various places in this great big country.
And hopefully he’d want me to come, too.
Biting my lip, I watch as Theo nails the extra point, and we all cheer for him because really, he’s the one who just solidified the whole thing. I never thought about it before… how much the team relies on their kicker. Theo is amazing at what he does. I hope he doesn’t give himself too much grief for missing one field goal in an entire season.
But if he’s anything like Kyran, I’m sure he’ll be beating himself up.
Kyran is just so fucking adorable right now, I can’t stand it. He and Guty are hanging all over each other, their teammates crowding around them in widespread celebration. Notre Dame’s offense lingers, with only fifteen seconds on the clock, the game is deemed over.
What a rush. A spectacular end to a wild season.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get either of your names,” Guty’s mom says to us over the noise, and “All I Do Is Win” bumping over the speakers.
“I’m Avi,” I tell her. “This is Bridget. Kyran’s sister.”
“Liz Gutierrez.” She grins. “This is my son, Marco.” Guty’s brother nods at us as Liz asks, “Are you two coming to the party?”
I glance at Bridget, anxiety weaseling its way up again. I hadn’t really planned on going to the party… I know Kyran will be the star of the show, and the idea of tagging along makes me feel a little awkward.
But Bridget nudges me. “You know he’s gonna want you there.”
Gulping, I nod hesitantly.
Guty’s mom and brother wave at us as they disappear into the crowd. And I’m even more nervous now… We all know parties full of football players aren’t my scene.
Buck up. You’ll have to get used to it if he goes to the NFL…
I just wish I could see Kyran right now. It’s so different when we’re alone. But every second we’re not together is spent with mountains of doubt rising between us.
My eyes fall back down to the field, where a reporter is interviewing Kyran. He looks so happy. And I’m happy that he’s happy. So I guess that’s all that matters.
“So, what’s up?” Bridget asks. “You wanna go wait for him?”
Watching Kyran, I shake my head. “Nah, he’s doing his thing right now. We can go back to the hotel. That’s where the party is happening, anyway.”
Bridget nods, and we fight the psychotic body traffic out of the stadium until we reach the even more ridiculous car traffic. It takes us a bazillion years to get back to the hotel, and by the time we’re there, I really need a freaking drink.
“Let’s go to the bar,” Bridget says as we walk inside.
“I’m only twenty,” I mumble.
“Ugh, God. I forgot you’re both fetuses,” she scoffs.
I laugh and shake my head. “There’s a minibar in my room.”
Up in my hotel room, we crack open a bottle of tequila and pour two shots to celebrate the BC Eagles being big, fancy NCAA Division I Champions.
“I’m so fucking proud of him…” I breathe as the liquor burns its way down my throat.
“I can see that.” Bridget grins. “You looked like you were gonna die when the ball was in the air that last time.”
I chuckle. “It’s just… I don’t know. Watching him play this entire season, while everything else has been going on between us… I feel like I’ve been a part of it, ya know?” I shake my head, fiddling with my chipped nail polish. “I’ve never felt like that before.”
“You are a part of it, Avi,” she says, and I glance up. “You’re the mascot.” I huff, but she pins me with a look. “I’m serious. I know it seems like a goofy thing, but you were there pumping them up, rooting for them. Rooting for him.”
I purse my lips. “It was just fun to be included.”
“I wasn’t kidding when I said your name came up every time we talked.” She smirks. “Any time I’d call him after a game, he’d be like, ‘And Avi was over there doing the Gangnam Style dance…’”
I laugh out loud while she snickers.
“Dead ass. I didn’t want to piss him off by saying anything, but it was super obvious he never stopped paying attention to you.”
“It was impossible for me to hate him…” I murmur truthfully while she pours two more shots. “Believe me, I tried. He was a real jerk to me at times…”
“I believe it.”
“But underneath it, I always just wanted him to like me. And the high of getting someone like him interested in someone like me was unlike anything…”
“Avi, who are you kidding? You know you’re perfect for him,” she says.
“I don’t know that…”
“Yes, you do. Trust me. I’ve only known you for a day, and I can see it. I saw it last night the second you two walked in and sat down next to each other, like there was no possible way you could be apart. You’re exactly what my brother needs. Someone supportive and patient, who’s gonna love him no matter what. Someone who calls him on his bullshit and loves the stubborn out of him.”
We take our shots, and she breathes out slowly. “But mostly, someone who will stay by his side. He doesn’t need to be abandoned any more…”
“Bridget, he doesn’t hold that against you,” I tell her, and her deep amber eyes slink to mine. In this light, you can see so much of Tom in her.
“But you do…” she whispers.
My jaw tightens, but I shake my head. “It’s not my place.”
“Bullshit. You’re family. And now, you’re also Kyran’s partner. It is your place to be pissed off on his behalf.”
I slump back in my chair and sigh. “I guess it’s just that I don’t understand why you left. I don’t get the whole thing… I don’t understand why Kyran is so convinced your family split up because of him.”
Bridget’s eyes set on the marble island between us as she mumbles, “It wasn’t his fault…”
“No shit,” I grunt. “But why does he feel like that?? It makes no fucking sense.”
She pours more booze into her cup, whipping it back. “Because our asshole father made him feel like it was.”
What…?
My gaze at her narrows. “Why? Why would Tom do that to a twelve-year-old kid?”
Bridget goes quiet for a moment, the suspense and angst building a thickness in the air. “It’s not my place to tell you about it… You should hear it from Kyran.”
Raking my fingers through my hair, I yank it. “You and I both know he won’t. And I need to know. Bridget, I’m really starting to freak out here. You’re making me think it’s like… something bad.”
When her gaze slides back up to mine, there are tears glistening her eyes. “It is bad, Avi. It was the worst thing that’s ever happened to anyone I know… And it happened to my baby brother.”
Oh God… This is too much. Jesus, I’m freaking the fuck out.
My gut is churning so hard I feel nauseous. I know it’s not right for me to demand answers… I know that. I should wait for Kyran to confide in me when he’s ready.
But I also know that if he’s suffering, stuffing down something awful from his past and pretending it doesn’t exist, that’s really not healthy. I want to be able to help him. To love him, no matter what.
“Just promise you won’t leave him…” Bridget whispers.
“I won’t fucking leave him unless he wants me to…” I shiver out the words. “Because I’ll do anything for him, even if it kills me,” I tell her with my fullest sincerity.
After all, it’s true. Kyran Harbor is the love of my life. That’s it.
I’ve fallen. Hook, line, and sinker, he has my whole heart.
Bridget slinks off her chair, padding across the room to her purse. She plucks her phone out of it, tapping away while I’m just staring at her, my heart beating its way up my esophagus.
She glares at something on the screen before sighing and sliding her phone over to me.
Picking it up, my eyes travel, reading the words. At first, I have no idea what I’m looking at… A legal document, or a settlement of some kind?
But the more I read, my heart proceeds to snap in half in my chest.
And with each word that follows, it cracks and slits and crumbles, my fingers shaking with rage and despair as I scroll down to the end.
There’s a picture.
“Is…” My voice will barely creep from my throat, I’m so shocked and appalled. So disgusted and angry and horrified. “Is this real? This is… him?”
Bridget sniffles, and I know she’s crying. But I can’t pry my eyes away from the phone in front of me. Every single fiber of my being is thrumming with wrath, woven around strands of aching empathy for my stepbrother.
The man I love. My family.
No matter what he is to me, even if he was a stranger, this would make me sick to my stomach. I feel myself retch as I shove the phone away, covering my face with my hands.
“Oh my God…” I’m quaking.
Sick and sad and more enraged than I’ve ever felt before.
“That’s Father McAdams,” Bridget whimpers, then snarls with the same fury I’m feeling in my veins. “The fucking monster who raped my brother when he was twelve.”
No… No, no, no, this isn’t true.
It can’t be.
Kyran… A soft sound escapes me as I rip my hair out of my head.
The words are spinning in my mind, being read aloud in my own voice.
The archdiocese has agreed to dismiss and laicize Father James McAdams of Cathedral of the Holy Cross in South Boston, per out of court settlement with the family of Kyran Thomas Harbor, Somerville, MA.
The Church will pay out a sum of one-point-four million dollars to the family. Settlement professes nondisclosure…
“Bridget… I’m gonna be sick…” I cough, barely even recognizing my own voice as I stand up and sprint to the bathroom.
Heaving with my face on fire, I throw up the booze I just consumed. But I’m numb… I don’t feel the burn and the wrenching pain in my gut. All I feel is excruciating, throbbing anger.
Falling back on my knees, I force myself to breathe, steadying enough to stand up on wobbly legs. I rinse my mouth out and splash water on my face, eyes traveling up to my reflection in the mirror. And I remember…
I remember the times I’ve seen Kyran do this.
Staring at himself in the mirror, like he’s desperately trying to recognize himself.
Stumbling back into the room, I find Bridget shakily pouring herself another drink.
“A s-settlement??” I stammer, shaking my head.
This is fucking insane. I can’t even process it. It’s like my mind has completely shut down. I think I’m in shock.
She sips her drink, wincing before pushing out a long, hopeless breath. “It was the end of summer before my senior year of high school… Kyran had just come home from church camp, this dumb bullshit our parents used to make us do. I hadn’t gone in a few years, because I’d whined and begged to go to camp with my friends instead. But Kyran was still going. We were supposed to go to the Cape in the morning… I was packing my… swimsuit.” She chokes on the word and releases a quiet sob of a noise before roughly rubbing at her face, like she’s trying to force away the terror of an awful memory.
“I heard a noise. Like a… thud. Coming from the upstairs bathroom,” she speaks quietly, her wide gaze stuck on the marble countertop. “I rushed to the door and knocked, calling out to Kyran to see if it was him. If he was okay…” She stops again to breathe. “He wasn’t answering me, and the door was locked, so I used a credit card to break in. He was… he was lying on the floor of the tub with the shower running and half the shower curtain ripped down.”
My chest is somehow hollow and pulsing at the same time as she struggles out more words. “I thought he’d fallen, so I rushed over to him. He didn’t look hurt, but he was… staring. Not blinking, just staring. I thought he was dead for a second, and I swear to God, I’ve never been so scared in my life. But then I realized he was breathing… trembling from head to toe.
“I wrapped him in a towel and got him out of the tub… He could barely walk, and I was screaming at him to tell me what was wrong, but he wouldn’t speak.”
I can somehow see everything she’s describing… Young Kyran, frozen in shock.
Broken.
My legs give out and I come crashing to the floor, sitting with my knees bent and my fingers threaded in my hair, gripping my skull.
“When I… mentioned that I was going to call an ambulance, he suddenly snapped out of it and his head started flinging back and forth while he cried no… over and over.” Bridget stops with tears tumbling down her cheeks and she swallows more liquor. “I took him into my room, got him dressed, and put him in my bed… And he was crying and crying. And I was crying because I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew it was bad, you know? When he finally calmed down enough to breathe and speak, he said, ‘Something happened.’” She wipes her nose with her hand, the sorrow on her face palpable. “That’s when I knew… I mean, I didn’t know the details. I didn’t need to… But I knew something terrible had happened to him, and fuck, I just wanted to rip myself open and give him whatever he needed to feel better. But there was nothing I could do… I’d already failed him. Because I didn’t protect him.”
She drops her head to the counter. “I was supposed to protect him.”
Without even realizing it, I’m crying. Silently whimpering grief for the love of my life.
And this brokenness he’s been holding inside for so long.
The room is silent for a while before Bridget continues. “Eventually, he told me what Father McAdams had done… And Avi… I’m telling you that I’ve never wanted so badly to hurt someone in my whole life. That night, I went to the asshole’s house. I took the bus, and I went to his fucking house… and I stood outside, thinking about if I could actually do it. If I could kill him…”
Her head lifts, and our eyes lock. I feel the hatred, the wrath, and the pain, moving between her and me, like a tangible force of energy.
My muscles stiffen and my teeth grind together. I want that, too. I don’t even know this person, but I want him to burn alive in an inferno for all eternity. I want him to know exactly why he’s being punished. I need him to get it.
“Obviously, I didn’t,” she huffs weakly. “He killed himself, by the way. They found him hanging from a light fixture in his study four years ago… With a piece of paper gripped in his fist that said I’m sorry.” She cackles a furiously unamused laugh. “Sorry?! Fuck!” she screams, and I flinch as she jumps up and starts pacing around. She looks so much like Kyran right now, it’s making me feel sick again. “Whatever, that’s not the point. He got off way too easily, as far as I’m concerned. But that night when I came home, it turns out Kyran had told Dad. And do you wanna know what our father said…?”
