Unwritten Law (Steele Brothers 1)

“What happened?” I rush to get to him, but he flinches when I get close, so I pause.

His bottom lip trembles. “N-nothing, Mr. Garvey. I … Nothing at all.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and refuses to look at me.

“Whatever it is, I can help. I can—”

“I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Davis!” I call out after him as he runs down the street.

I run my hands through my hair, and the dojo starts emptying of Law’s last class.

“Hey, you’re early,” Law says from the open doorway.

“Can you lock up fast? Davis was here, he has a black eye, and as soon as he saw me, he ran. He might’ve been coming to talk to you or look for Anders, and I think I’ve just fucked it up.”

“Give me thirty seconds. He can’t get far on foot.”

He’s twenty seconds according to my watch, but it feels like five minutes later when he reappears, still wearing his karate pants. He’s at least managed to change into a dark T-shirt.

“He ran off that way”—I point—“so keep your eyes open.” I drive at a crawl, but my heart beats frantically and I begin to sweat. What the hell is Davis involved in? Did the kids at school do it or someone else? Questions and scenarios fill my head, so much so I can barely concentrate on driving.

“Pull up over here,” Law says. The sun’s almost completely set, but it’s bright enough to make out a darkened figure moving at a quick pace through a park entrance on the side of the street.

On foot, we follow Davis and find him sitting on a park bench, his head in his hands and quiet sobs echoing around the empty space.

“I’ll stay back here. I spooked him before,” I say.

Law approaches, and I stand close enough to hear but not scare Davis off.

“Davis?” Law takes the seat next to him.

Davis’s head shoots up. “Law?” he croaks.

“You need to tell me what happened, bud.”

“I …” His eyes find mine. “I can’t. Not with him here.”

My immediate reaction is to ask what the fuck I ever did to him, but Law’s head is screwed on tighter than mine right now.

“Is it because you’re worried he’ll tell the school?”

Davis nods.

I step forward. “Davis, I won’t say anything you don’t want me to. I want you to trust that you can come to me with anything, and I won’t betray your confidence. Who hit you? Was it another student?”

Davis shakes his head. “My …” He sniffs. “My dad.”

Law and I both tense. I literally just told Davis I wouldn’t betray his trust, but he was right in not wanting to tell me. If a teacher knows or suspects violence in the home, we legally have to report it.

“Has this happened before?” Law asks.

Davis shakes his head again. His body trembles, and I don’t know if he’s cold or in shock. “You know how I asked to talk to Anders?”

“Yeah,” Law says, dragging the word out.

“I’m not out to my parents. I … I wanted to ask him advice on how to do it, but it all became moot today anyway when Dad caught me kissing”—Davis looks at me and rephrases—“a guy in my room. Dad was supposed to be at work, and—”

“If you’re not out, how are you in the LGBTQ student union?” I ask. “You needed a signed permission form from your parents to join.”

Davis’s mouth drops open. “I … umm …”

“You’re not in trouble,” I reassure him. I want to know how much trouble the school will be in if he was never supposed to be in my union.

“My mum signed it. You know how Chantel’s straight?”

I did not know that, but I also don’t know what that has to do with anything.

“She joined as an ally. Honestly, I think it’s because she doesn’t have any friends, but—”

“Davis, get to the point,” Law says.

“I lied. I told my mum I was joining as an ally too. Claimed to want a better world and all that shit. She eyed me as if she didn’t believe me and warned me not to tell Dad, but she signed it.”

“Did he only hit your face?” Law asks.

Davis stares at the ground.

“Did he hit your boyfriend too?” I ask.

“No. He’s not my boyfriend. But anyway, he ran home as soon as Dad called us fagg—”

“Don’t need to repeat what he called you,” I say, because I’m two seconds away from getting as riled up as Law. He’s trying to hide it, but anger radiates off him.

“Did he only hit your face?” Law asks again.

Slowly, Davis rises from the bench and lifts his shirt. It’s hard to tell under the darkening sky, but red skin marks his side.

“What in the ever-loving fuck?” Law yells. He shoots out of his seat and heads towards the park exit.