Love At First Hate (Love At Firsts Book 2)(63)

“Oh really? So you’re going to get a priest and have him marry Lindsey and me here?” I scoff, and he punches my jaw.

“Do not take that tone with me. I’ll do whatever it takes for my plans to unfold the way I want them to. I’m not going to let a little bastard like you ruin them for me.” He sneers.

“And what exactly are your plans? You keep mentioning them, but I still don’t know. Hell, none of us know.”

“Frank knows, and he went with it because he knows better than to go against his father’s will.”

“Care to share with me? I wanna know what’s so f*cking special about Lindsey that it’s mandatory that I marry her.”

“You’re finally accepting it. Guess I won’t have to go through with what I had in mind for you.” He laughs sadistically.

“No, I’m not accepting whatever it is that you’re trying to force upon me. I just wanna know what’s going through your sick and sadistic mind to do this to your own son.”

“I guess I’ll just have to beat the gay out of you and make you see the light,” he yells at me, and punches start raining on my face, in my ribs, on my back, on my injured leg; anywhere he can land a punch, he does. I’m numb to the pain. I’ve learned to take it from military training. Thinking of it, some of it wasn’t real military training, and I still wonder what the hell he’s put me through. “You’ll learn to go with your father’s will.”

I don’t talk.

I don’t wince.

I don’t scream for mercy.

I don’t give him the satisfaction to show him that it’s affecting me. His punches aren’t affecting me. The bruises will fade with time but the words… They’ll stay with me forever as they always have.

I’ll beat the gay out of you.

It’s not the first time he’s said those words. I remember them from a long time ago as my body takes a beating.

I was eight, and it was the summer. We lived on the military base, and there were a lot of kids running around. I’ve always been a loner, even back then. I was watching the kids playing; boys running around shirtless because it was so hot. Robert caught me looking at them, and he dragged me inside by the neck and said those exact words as he threw me in the living room. I’ll beat the gay out of you. It was my first beating and the first time he figured I had a thing for men.

He then took it upon himself to torment and torture me for years and years until he sent me to one of his drill sergeant friends to teach me how to be a good soldier. He was then the one doing the beating if I wasn’t doing something right. I was fourteen.

Clearly, none of this worked as I was busted looking up gay porn when I was sixteen. That was the worst one. He beat me within an inch of my life and sent me to military camp and then to war. I didn’t have a say in any of this. At first, I thought it was just because we were a military family, but Frank was never sent out to be a soldier.

A part of me really wants to know what the hell all of this is about and the other part is scared of what it might find out.



I don’t know how long I’ve been in here. Regularly, Robert comes in and tries to ‘beat the gay out of me’. Not like it’s going to work, but I’m in no position to fight back. He won’t tell me why he’s doing all of this. What it means to him. He does, however, have a lot of fun checking my messages from Matt and reading them out. Making sure they are checked as read but not replying back to hurt Matt. That’s what hurts the most. I don’t care about the physical pain, but the emotional turmoil Matt must be in because he sees that the messages have been read just breaks my heart even more. He’ll think I left him for good when I was just trying to do the right thing.

Time has stopped for me. I’ve been between in and out of consciousness quite a few times now. Robert being more violent each time and there’s nothing I can do. No one knows I’m here. I’m all alone. I should have told someone where I was going, what I was going to do, but there’s not much someone can do for me when I don’t even know where I’m kept at.

The door to the room I’m locked in slowly opens, and I brace myself for another beating. To my surprise, it’s Frank. I’m relieved for a minute, but if the look of dread on his face is anything to go by, he’ll take over what Robert has been doing for God knows how long.

“We don’t have much time,” Frank says in an ushered voice.

“What?” I mumble. My left eye is swollen shut. My nose is probably broken. My jaw is killing me, and my bottom lip is busted open. My ribs and back are all bruised up, and it’s painful just to breathe, let alone talk.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he says as he undoes my binds.

“Why?”

“We don’t have time for this. Can you walk?” he asks as he helps me up slowly. I wince and fall to the ground. It’s the first time I’m standing up in however many days I’ve been here.

“Looks like you’re going to have to carry me.”

“Bollocks,” he groans.

“Karma is a right f*cking bitch, isn’t she?” I smirk, or I think I do.

“Don’t get a kick out of this, you jerk.” He huffs as he helps me up and helps me to his car that’s parked outside.

Looking around, I realize that I’m at the military base we used to live on. In the very same bunker I was beaten by Robert’s drill sergeant friend.