Page 10 of Fall for Me

I saw neither of those.

What I saw was Eli distraught, his features pulled into a grimace, his eyes red, his cheeks wet.

I was so shocked I stopped in the middle of the wide field. I’d seen Eli cry before, but not like this. The last time I saw Eli cry like this was at his Mom’s funeral, and once, when we were really and truly shit-faced, about his wife—and their messy divorce. The times before that were when we lost the little league championships, and when the little sparrow with the broken wing we rescued when we were eight years old died. That was it.

But he was crying now.

And he was storming over here. “Seamus!” he yelled.

I didn’t move.

He came to a stop in front of me. His whole body was rigid. His chest heaved.

Mine tightened with pain. “Eli,” I began. “I’m… I’m so fucking sorry.” My voice cracked.

Then Eli pulled his arm back. I knew what was coming here, too. I could have dodged it. Eli was too hot with anger to be precise about anything.

But I didn’t. I needed it.

I leaned forward, angling my face sideways so he’d land his punch square.

He hesitated, his fist wavering.

“Do it!” I yelled. I surprised both of us, I know.

I could see that pissed him off more, me controlling this. But it worked. He hit me in the side of the mouth.

Eli wasn’t a small man. My jaw cracked painfully under his fist, my whole body swinging sideways. Blood spilled as my lip split.

But it felt good. The pain ripping through me was the first thing that felt good in a long, long time.

I faced him, pressing my hand against my jaw to crack it back into place. “Do it again,” I spat.

Eli shook his head, tears streaming. “Her face…” he said. “My baby sister’s face…”

He spread his fingers and re-closed his fist. Then he swung again.

This one hit my chin. Pain zinged across my skull. More.

“Again!” I shouted.

Eli raised his fist a final time… then lowered it. His shoulders sagged as he collapsed into a sob, holding his hand out in front of him. “No!” He shouted. “It’s not your fucking fault!”

“It is,” I shouted back.

But Eli wasn’t taking the bait again. He looked in my eyes, and fuck if they didn’t make my stomach clench with more guilt.

“No, man, it’s not.” Then he threw his arms around me and hit my back with his fist. One, two, three hard hits.

I held him there for a moment, my own throat thick with tears, my jaw throbbing. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I was trying to protect her…”

“I know, bro,” Eli said into my shoulder. Then he pushed off, shoving me aside. He leaned down with his hands on his knees. “I can’t believe you made me hit you.”

I cracked my jaw once more and sank down onto the grass, thumbing the blood off my lip.

Eli dropped down a few feet away from me and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, his elbows resting on his knees. “You need some ice,” he said, without looking up.

“I’m fine.”

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