Chapter 15

Matt stared at the phone in his hand in disbelief. What the hell?

Was that really Avery's father?

Matt's heart pounded in his ears as he slowly processed what he'd heard. Had the man actually hit Avery?

Avery had sounded terrified in the seconds before the call disconnected. He had to get over there. As he dressed quickly and raced down the steps, Erin appeared from her room.

"Where are you going?" she asked sleepily.

"I think something's going on at Avery's house," he said breathlessly as he grabbed his coat and keys.

"Wait, I'll come too," Erin said as she suddenly looked more awake.

"No, stay here with mom. I'll let you know..."

And he was out the door and jumping in the car.

No, wait, he should call the police, he thought again as he started the car. If Avery's dad had hit him, then Matt wanted the police to arrest the man for assault.

"Euphoria police, can I help you?"

"Yes, yes, I--I want to report an assault," Matt stammered.

The voice on the phone suddenly perked up. "Where are you, sir? Who was assaulted?"

"It's not me. It's my friend, Avery. Avery Greene. At his house. I was on the phone with him and I-- I think his father hit him!"

There was a pause. "Greene? As in Carl Greene?"

"Yes!" Matt practically screamed in frustration.

"Okay, calm down, sir. I'm dispatching a unit now to check it out. What is your name, sir?"

"Matt. Matthew Andrews," he breathed. "I'm almost there."

"Sir," the voice became alarmed, "Please wait for the police. Do not approach the house."

Matt pulled up in front of the Greene's house. A police cruiser was pulling up behind his car. "They're here. Thanks."

He quickly hung up and got out of the car and met the sheriff as he approached.

"You the one who called?" Travis Nelson asked, his hands on his belt as he surveyed the quiet house and neighborhood in the slowly breaking dawn.

"Yeah, I'm Matt Andrews. I was on the phone with Avery when his father started yelling and it sounded like he hit Avery," Matt rushed on quickly.

"Hit him? Carl Greene?" Nelson frowned, but even as he asked the question, the image of Avery at the diner flooded back. The boy had seemed anxious about something, and he'd filed that away in his head to check in on the boy tomorrow, when his father wasn't around to answer questions for him.

"Yes, I swear to you, something is wrong," Matt insisted. "Avery was--was-- he sounded upset even before his father came in."

Travis Nelson was already nodding as he reached for the portable radio on his shoulder. "This is Sheriff Nelson; I'm at the Greene residence, checking out a domestic disturbance."

"10-4, Sheriff. Do you need backup?" the radio cracked.

Nelson glanced around the quietly waking neighborhood. "Have a unit on stand-by as well as paramedics, just in case."

"10-4."

Nelson stalked up to the door, and Matt followed in his wake. He knocked quickly on the door as Matt shifted in agitation next to him. The house remained quiet. He knocked harder.

Nothing.

Nelson turned back to his radio. "Hey Patty, I'm getting no response at the Greene house--"

"But--" Matt started to interrupt, thinking the sheriff was going to give up and leave, but the man silenced him with a glare.

"Can you ring the house?" Nelson continued.

"Will do. Stand-by," the dispatcher responded and within a few seconds they could hear the phone ringing inside. It rang six times before the answering machine picked up. "No answer, Sheriff."

Travis Nelson felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. Shit, something wasn't right.

He cast a quick glance at the anxious man next to him, as he stepped back from the front porch to get a better view of the front of the house. He pressed his radio. "I need back up at 214 Sycamore Drive," he announced.

"10-4. Units are on their way," Patty announced, and Travis suspected the other four officers had already started his way, hoping for some excitement. Very little happened in Euphoria as everyone knew everyone else's business. So the call of a simple domestic dispute, even just a dad yelling at his son, was enough to invoke excitement and break up the monotony of the day.

As two more units pulled up to the curb and four more officers gathered on the lawn to get the update, Travis noticed neighbors beginning to hover and gawk as they had been getting up for work and noticed the police cars out front, probably throwing speculation and rumors around quickly.

"Let's hurry this up," Nelson grumbled, "before we have speculations of a mass murder floating around."

The other officers laughed. They hadn't had anything worse than a theft or bar fight in years.

"Let's check the doors. Lyons, Daniels, you two try the back door. We'll try the front."

Matt watched as the officers spread out around the house. They seemed cautious, but not particularly concerned. Nelson rattled the handle on the front door, not surprised to find it locked.

"Back door is unlocked," Lyons announced over the radio. "Going in."

Matt bounced anxiously as he waited, when suddenly the front door opened. Lyons stood there as Daniels swept through the living room.

"Nothing yet, sir," Lyons stated.

The other officers poured into the house. Nelson put a hand on Matt's chest to keep him from following them in.

"Carl?" Nelson called as he walked in. "Hey, buddy, are you here? We just want to make sure everything is alright."

Travis nodded to two officers--Garrett and Perkins-- to check out upstairs. Other than the officers' footsteps, the house was oddly quiet.

"Weird," Travis mused, looking around. "It doesn't look like they're here."

"I swear I just talked to Avery!" Matt burst, stepping in the front door.

"I know--"

"No one upstairs," Garrett's voice came over the shoulder radios.

Perkins' voice cut across the silence. "Uh, sheriff. I'm in what looks like the boy's room. The bedsheets look pulled off the bed and there's a broken phone on the floor."

Matt cast Nelson an 'I told you so' look as Travis frowned. "Then where the hell are--"

His gaze fell on a door to the side of the garage door. Lyons and Daniels followed his gaze to the basement door, their unease rising. "We're heading for the basement," Travis announced.

"Heading your way," Perkins said.

Travis Nelson headed for the basement door, opening it to a light. At the sound of a whimper, he tensed and instinctively unstrapped his gun. His officers followed suit, holding their weapons cautiously to their side.

"Carl?" Travis called as they made their way down the stairs. "Is everything--"

"Go away, Travis," a deep voice came from across the basement, and they whipped their guns in the direction of the voice.

Travis froze unable to believe the sight in front of him, his weapon dropping slightly.

"Oh, shit," he heard Daniels whisper next to him.

Travis gaped at the sight of the thin teen literally hanging by his wrists by a chain in the ceiling. He had to suppress a gag at the sight of the boy's shredded, bleeding back. He could barely process the fact that the teen's father had his arm wrapped around the boy's waist, gripping the kid protectively in front of him. The kid's thin chest was pressed tightly to his father's by the punishing grip, the boy's head hung limply against his father's shoulder.

Fuck, the man was using his son as a shield.

Travis managed to cast a glance back at his officers, watching as Garrett darted back up the stairs, frantically talking into his radio to the dispatcher about backup and paramedics.

"Carl," Nelson began, attempting a calm voice, holding out his hand appealingly, "What's going on?"

"Get the hell out of here!" Carl growled, and Travis abruptly noticed the knife Carl had pressed to Avery's ribs.

"I think you know I can't do that, Carl," Travis kept his voice as calm and even as he could, even as he could feel his heart racing in his chest, sweat breaking out on his brow. He could feel the tension in the bodies of his officers next to him.

He glanced briefly back at the stairs, noting that Perkins was still on the steps and had dropped into a crouch, his gun aimed carefully through the railing. Lyons and Daniels were also ready, but all were worried about potentially hitting the kid.

He could hear Garrett arguing with that Andrews guy at the top of the stairs as well, keeping the man from barging down the steps and potentially escalating the situation. But his focus was on the surreal scene in front of him.

"Why are you doing this? To your own son?"

Carl looked confused for a moment, but then tightened his grip around Avery's waist, causing the knife to jab at his son's ribs. At the whimper of pain from the teen, Travis tensed and heard the collective gasp of his officers. He held his hand up to stay them.

"He ruined everything!" Carl snarled.

"You need to let him go," Travis tried to reason.

"No!" the man snapped. "He's mine! I'll do what I want with him!"

And suddenly Travis knew when the look of desperation crossed Carl's face that there was no way the man was letting go of the boy willingly. Oh, shit, he thought, he's going to kill him.

Nelson saw the moment when Carl knew it was hopeless, the flash of rage in the dark eyes. He caught the whitening of the knuckles as the man gripped the knife tighter, and knew without a doubt the man was about to stab his son.

"Perkins!" Travis shouted in understood order.

Avery let out an agonized cry, as the gunshot split the air. Carl's right arm that was holding the knife jerked back. Blood blossomed down his right side as he staggered before collapsing on the ground.

"Shit!" Travis snapped as he saw blood dripping from the kid's ribs. In seconds, the officers were across the room, securing the suspect. Travis gently lifted the boy's head, wincing at the condition of the kid. The teen's green eyes fluttered, his face contorted in pain, and his breathing was harsh and raspy.

"Get the fucking paramedics down here!" he snapped, then turned back to the kid. "Avery, come on, Avery. Stay with me, okay? You're going to be okay, now..."

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Avery felt a fierce pain rip through his side, tearing a cry from his exhausted body, as his father jerked away from him. He'd been vaguely aware of voices, his father was arguing with someone--was that the sheriff? He'd just prayed it wasn't Matt.

Please don't let him hurt Matt, Avery silently begged.

Suddenly, hands were jostling him, and there were so many voices shouting. He wanted to tell them to shut up and just let him die in peace. He didn't want to feel this pain anymore. He was just so fucking tired.

He felt his chin lifted, but the touch was gentle this time, not like his father's.

"Avery," a deep voice urged him back from drifting into the black abyss. "Come on, Avery. Stay with me, okay? You're going to be okay, now..." the voice shifted and got louder, "Get him down!"

He whimpered as he felt his body jostled around as his arms were released from above. He floated on the sea of voices as he was lowered to the floor on his side.

"Careful of his back...."

"Jesus..."

"I'm dying, here!" Avery could pick out his father voice. "You fucking shot me!"

"Shut up, Greene!"

Thundering footsteps on the wooden stairs. He felt the cold cement on his side. A warm hand pressed over the gaping wound in his ribs. Someone brushed his sweaty ebony hair away from his face, prying open an eye.

"Sheriff, paramedics are here!"

Avery groaned as he tried to slip back into the darkness. The light was too painful. He gasped as pain ripped through his chest when he tried to breathe. Why did it hurt so fucking much to just breathe? God, he just wanted it all to go away. Just leave me alone, he wanted to shout.

"Over here! He's got a knife wound on his side here, then there's his back..."

"We got him, sheriff..."

Avery felt pressure on his side and it shot agony through his spine. He whimpered in pain but couldn't do anything but endure the jostling hands.

"Avery!" a familiar voice cut through the cacophony of noise. "Oh, my God! Avery!"

Matt. He tried to turn to the voice. "Matt," he croaked.

"Hold still..."

Someone was unbuckling the leather braces.

There was a pinch in his arm and it seemed like a cool rush of fluid raced in. Something was draped over his back. A sheet?

"We'll have to put him on his back..."

"Okay, on three. One, two, three..."

He felt his body lifted up and he was laid on his back on a padded surface. He groaned, unable to focus on any one voice. Matt? Where was Matt?

"Avery." He felt hands caressing his cheek.

"Matt," he whispered, trying to get his eyes to work as he turned into the caress.

Then he felt straps cross his body and started to panic at the feeling of being tied down again. "No.... no..."

Hands pressed gently on his shoulders. "Whoa, there. Hold still, okay?"

"Avery, it's okay," he heard Matt voice through the cacophony of noise and he stilled. "It's just the paramedics. They're here to help."

Avery felt himself nod briefly, wondering at the odd timber of Matt's voice. He sounded funny, high pitched, and anxious, and he worried that he'd made Matt upset.

"S-sorry," he croaked.

"Oh, god," he heard Matt groan, as something was wrapped around his arm and squeezed. "Avery, there's nothing to be sorry for."

"Okay make a hole!" a voice shouted.

Avery felt the sticky hair on his forehead swept to the side, and lips pressed to his forehead before whatever he was laying on seemed to tilt and move.

"I love you, Matt," he whispered, suddenly knowing it was probably the last chance he'd have to do so.

"Blood pressure is dropping! Let's go!"

Avery heard the voices fading as his body seemed to float away. The bliss of the darkness took him, and he felt no pain.

Finally.