"The scars from mental cruelty can be as deep and long-lasting as wounds from punches or slaps but are often not as obvious."
-Lundy Bancroft

The summer passed slowly for Lucas. It was miserable to be at home. School, though his academic performance was anything but exemplary, was still his escape place. Now that safe haven was gone.

Brian watched him like a hawk, always looking for some mistake, some slip up. Lucas was no longer allowed to close his bedroom door. It was his mother's rule. She had implemented it after finding out about the drugs. Though months had passed since then, she still didn't trust him.

One day Brian came home from work with a box in his hand. Lucas was watching TV on the couch and didn't look up or acknowledge his stepfather. It was his only hope for not having to interact with him.

But today, Brian spoke to him first,

"Hey Lucas, let me show you what I bought," he said.

Lucas looked at Brian, surprised by the amiable tone in his voice. His guard went down a little without him realizing it, and he stood and followed his stepfather to the kitchen table.

Brian had already opened the box and was examining a sleek, silver handgun. Lucas paused in the doorway.

"A gun?" he said.

Brian grinned. "Yep. A gun. Bought it today. Nice huh?"

Lucas decided it was best to play along. "Nice," he said.

Brian turned and offered the gun to Lucas. "Wanna hold it?"

Lucas shook his head. He had no interest in guns, and the sight of the weapon in Brian's hand made him nervous.

"Why not? Too much of a pussy?" Brian countered.

Lucas rolled his eyes and reached for the gun. It was heavy in his hands. Heavy and cold.

"Is it loaded?" he asked.

"Yeah. Safety's on though."

Lucas wasn't sure what Brian wanted him to do with the gun. He held it awkwardly for a few seconds before giving it back to him

"Why did you want a gun?" he asked.

"Hunting," Brian answered nonchalantly. "Didn't your dad ever take you hunting?"

Lucas's father had disliked the idea of hunting defenseless animals for no good reason, and he had raised Lucas to think the same. Still, Lucas at least knew a few basics about the sport. Basics such as,

"Shouldn't you use a rifle for that?"

Brian chuckled and looked at him coldly. "Depends on what you're hunting."

Lucas shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Brian's stare. He didn't know how to respond to the weird, vaguely threatening statement, and he awkwardly mumbled,

"Well, have fun I guess."

"I was thinking we could go. You and me," Brian said.

"Me? Hunting? With you?" Lucas asked incredulously.

"Why not? You need some manning up this summer. Your worthless father never taught you anything."

Lucas's anger flared. "Don't talk about my father."

"Oh I forgot, you're still all sensitive about it. You wanna cry? Let it out? Go ahead and cwy wittle baby, Lucas," Brian said in a mocking voice, making a pouty face.

Lucas clenched his fists, refusing to take the bait. "I don't even have a gun," he said.

"You won't need one," Brian said. "You'll just watch. You think I'd give you a loaded gun and turn my back on you? I'm not an idiot."

"You just now handed one to me," Lucas said flatly.

"Safety was on." At that, Brian turned the safety off and pointed the gun in Lucas's face.

Lucas took a step back towards the kitchen doorway. He tried to slow his racing heartbeat, tried to tell himself that Brian was messing with him, begged himself to stay calm and not do anything that would make it worse. Brian was like an animal that could smell fear, pouncing on it the second it hit his nostrils. Lucas's fear, especially, seemed to feed some dark hunger inside of him.

Brian laughed. Lucas saw his finger move to the trigger.

"STOP!" he shouted, unable to bear it any longer.

Brian smirked. "I'm not doing anything."

"Get that thing outta my face!"

"Or what?"

"I'll tell Mom!"

"Do that and I'll pull this trigger. You think I won't?"

Realizing he was cornered, Lucas gave in. "What do you want?" he asked softly.

Brian lowered the gun. "Just that. That question. Knowing that you understand your place. That's all."

It was then that Lucas understood. The man just wanted power. Power over him. And now he had it.

————————

Once again, the one bright light in Lucas's universe was Nora. Lucas told her about the gun the same day, and she raged for half an hour, stomping around her bedroom before finally coming to the same conclusion he had: they just had to play the game. No other outcome guaranteed Lucas's safety. He was unwilling to run away until she finished high school, and that was another year from now.

"I won't give him a reason to pull that trigger," Lucas assured her.

But it wasn't that simple. Brian looked for opportunities to push Lucas, no matter how hard he tried to stay out of his stepfather's way. It was impossible to play this game, because the game was rigged to insure Brian's victory every single time.

Slowly, imperceptibly, Lucas began to crack open the door in his mind and let the idea of heroin back into his heart. Nora was still using sporadically, though she never did it around him and never offered him any, but Lucas could see the difference in her and it made him jealous. She was so relaxed, so happy that summer. Why did she get to have that when he couldn't? It wasn't fair. She wasn't living with someone like Brian. He was the one who should be high, not her! He knew if he asked for it she would give it to him. A lecture first, certainly, but she would give it to him. And why not?

He tried to ignore the temptation, which worked okay until Brian came home. His mother was in her second trimester of pregnancy and was so tired after work she scarcely ate dinner with them before heading up to bed. That meant Lucas was alone with Brian for the majority of the evenings and nights that summer.

Sometimes Brian would tell his mother that they were going out together for some "male bonding" so she could rest. In real life these trips were a punishment for some perceived infraction of Lucas's. Usually it was talking back or being sarcastic. Lucas had always had a hard time biting his tongue and controlling his anger, which meant there were lots of opportunities for male bonding that summer.

Sometimes Brian would take him to the woods and force him to dig holes like he'd done the first time. Sometimes he'd drop him off in the middle of nowhere and make him find his own way home.

One night he took him to the track and forced him to run around and around and around in the sticky heat. Brian recorded it on his phone, and Lucas caught bits and pieces of the narration when he passed by.

"You wanna know how to make some punk-ass kid behave? Here's what you do. Wait until it's hot as hell outside and then make 'em run."

Brian laughed and cheered as Lucas plodded along the track, his lungs burning and his throat desperate for water. Water. Water. The thought filled his mind, making it impossible to think of anything else. If he stopped and begged for a drink, though, Brian would say,

"You just earned yourself another ten minutes."

So Lucas ran and ran and ran until he finally collapsed and vomited, which seemed to bring Brian great satisfaction. Of course, he recorded everything.

That was the night Lucas used again.