Cinnamon Muffins Chapter 17: Wrong Number
Spoiler: so about Taylor having the most physical violence in this book...
Trigger Warning for graphic violence, attempted murder, and homophobic hate crimes, to avoid this: stop reading at "You out here, buddy?" and continue at the next text conversation after that
After leaving the coffee shop, Jaxson says Juniper-Maisie texted, so he's going home for a while, "have fun with your shopping spree or whatever," (Taylor says it's not going to be a shopping spree because he will take anyone out at the fucking knees if they try to buy him anything). Collin says he's going home too, but it looks a little like an excuse to Dalton.
Well, that's probably fine. Collin is probably just uncomfortable spending the day with some guys he met, like, less than a week ago. Dalton thinks Todd might be pretty approachable, but Dalton knows he's big and he knows Taylor is scary.
Truth be told, Dalton is so extremely fucking jazzed to have more friends.
He can't wait for their Christmas sleepover. He already asked his dad, who's gonna go stay with Dalton's aunt for Christmas and New Years so he doesn't get too lonely.
Dalton, Todd, and Taylor walk to the mall, even though Taylor is both broke and violently against anything being bought for him. Todd says "fine, fine, okay, we won't buy anything, just window shopping," but he smirks at Dalton, and Taylor knows Todd too well to believe him anyways, so really Todd just said that to get Taylor to shut up with the threats.
It's maybe six pm when Collin gets a text message.
Wes Post: gelp
[Wes Post has shared their location with you]
Wes Post: plead
Collin: On my way!
Are you oky, Wes?
Wes doesn't respond. Collin is a little worried. Why would Wes need Collin's help, of all people?
Not that Collin doesn't like Wes! He seems like an awfully nice guy! Collin is sure that they're gonna be great buddies! But they've only know each other a little less than a week. Wouldn't Taylor be the first person he texts? Unless—
Unless Taylor is the one who needs help? Maybe it's like last night— gosh, it really don't feel like that whole mess was last night. It was so scary, but it feels like it was weeks ago already. Collin’s got his shoes on and he Maps Wes' location while he runs.
Jeez, he'd been telling Jax they should try to meet more people, but has meeting more people always been so stressful!? Jax's thing in the bathroom the other night isn't nobody else's fault, but then Freddy Peters getting everyone all riled in the cafeteria, and then last night with Taylor and Wes goin’ missing, and then today Wes is in trouble again!
Something in Collin' chest pulses with a familiar, angry pain. They're all still kids, technically, why do they have to go through such terrible things? They're all still kids, even if just barely, there should still be someone who was supposed to protect them. Who the fuck is protecting them? They're still kids—
And then Collin cuts that train of thought short. Puts the anger into running. He's still got to help Wes.
The Maps leads him right to the coffee shop, but Collin doesn't see Wes immediately. "Wes!?" he calls, hoping that Wes just knocked over a sack of coffee beans or something, but knowing that's probably not it, "You out here, buddy?"
A less familiar voice says something Collin can't quite make out (it sounds a lot like 'agate' though), and he follows the echoes to the side of the coffee shop where, of fucking course, three kids from school are kicking a heap of clothes that is probably actually Wes.
Collin never really took martial arts classes as a kid— his parents were very careful to keep him away from such violence— but he’s got the element of surprise and a lifetime of rage without outlet.
He slams a foot into the spine of one of the kids, who turns around he reveals himself to be Alex Morenson, already pivoting to lunge at Collin. But Alex Morenson's fighting experience is limited to him cornering people with his friends like a pack of hyenas, and Collin has always had worse odds. So Collin imagines Alex Morenson is his dad with a belt and slams his face to the concrete so hard there's road salt stuck to his cheek when he raises his head.
The second guy, Mathew Megans, whips around to try and get back at Collin, but he doesn't get a chance because Collin has already jabbed him in the throat. The third friend, who Collin doesn’t know, had the forethought to sneak up behind Collin, and he pulls a thick piece of plastic that he found on the ground around Collin' neck, choking him. All three of them are giggling slurs through the blood they're spitting from behind their teeth, but Collin can't hear them over the rush of his own blood in his ears, picking up pace to try and circulate the thinning amounts of oxygen in his body. Sparks pop like burning film in Collin's peripheral, and he vaguely registers his feet kicking and his arms clutching at his own neck, scratching his own skin off to try and get away from the cutting suffocation of the plastic trash garrote.
And then the pressure is gone. Collin hardly has the capacity to defend himself. He sinks to the ground, gasping for breath, until his vision and mind clears enough to register that Wes had shoved the third kid off of Collin, and now they're back to kicking him. In the chest. Collin coughs, wobbles to a stand.
He’s had quite enough, frankly.
Collin grabs a bottle from the dumpster that used to hold cheap wine from the gas station and smashes it against the wall of the coffee shop, he hooks a foot around one of the guy's legs, and when he's on the ground Collin holds the broken end of the bottle just above his cheekbone. He whimpers, as Collin guessed he would, and his friends stop hitting Wes, and they all stare at Collin, crouched over their friend, dripping blood from where the plastic trash garrote cut into his skin, with a broken bottle poised over this guy’s face.
"Go," Collin says with that thin kind of calm that covers up what a grounding looks like in the Donahue household, "before I do something we all regret." Alex Morenson and his friend put their hands up placatingly and begin to inch out of the alleyway. Collin drags the glass over the final guy's face until a thin, red line begins to erupt with blood.
"Collin?" Wes says hoarsely.
Collin stops. This kid, whose name he cannot remember even when his blood stains Collin’s nails, is not Collin’s father or mother. This nameless kid is also a kid. Someone should be teaching him better, but he is a kid just like the rest of them.
He scoots back and lets his hostage go. All three attackers run off into the rapidly darkening night. He drops the broken wine bottle. His fingertips feel tingly and he tries to ignore it. Tries to force down the urge to scream and cry and make something, anything bleed. More important things to do right now, he tries to tell himself. Screaming can come later.
Wes is too big for Collin to pick up, so Collin just helps scoot him through the back door of the coffee shop into the stockroom, locking it behind him, and settles Wes sitting on top of a stack of coffee bean sacks, and turns on the lights.
Oh. Oh goodness. Oh fuck.
Collin debates who he needs to call while Wes tries to stifle his bloody nose with a paper bag he found on the floor of the stockroom. Taylor should know what happened, but Collin is not prepared to deal with an angry Taylor— no sir, not today and maybe not ever. Taylor is downright terrifying. He could call Jax, but Jax would ask a lotta questions that Collin doesn't have an answer to. Collin does not have an extensive contact list. He's got Monique Feldman's number but what would she be doin’ here? Well, it's either Todd or Dalton then, and Collin knows Todd has a car.
Collin Donahue: Hey Todd! :)
Todd Richards: hey collin
hows ur folks house??
Collin Donahue: Oh, you know, same old
Hey Todd, your not still at the mall with Dalton and Taylor, are you?
*you're
Todd Richards: uh,,,
Yeah??
Why do u ask??
Collin Donahue: oh! Sorry! I won't bother you then!
Todd Richards: nah bro it's fine- ur my friend too now :))))
What's up???
Collin Donahue: okay, so this might sound kinda dumb
But could you come and pick us up?
Me and Wes
We're at the coffee shop
We might be a little scared to walk home
Todd Richards: Sure bud,, be otw soon
Y r u scared to walk home????
Collin Donahue: some guys might have come by the coffee shop and beat us up pretty bad
But we're pretty much ok!!
Nobody is dyin or nothin!
Wes might need a few ice packs though, haha
Todd Richards: sdfkj\
wtf happened
this is taylr btw
Collin Donahue: oh! Hey Taylor!
I'm not too sure what happened, to be honest
Hang on lemme make sure Wes isn’t fallin’ asleep
Todd Richards: does he have a concussion
collin
collin
does he have a concussion
Is his head bleedig
collin
We're otw!! Be there in a few!!
(This is todd again btw,,,, please make wes text taylor before he has a meltdown or somn)
Collin doesn't see the last several texts because Wes, in fact, did pass out for a second— he wakes up before Collin even gets to start panicking, but then there's a whole new problem because Wes begins to cry. Like, ugly cry. Like, coughing for breath, face red, shivering kind of ugly cry.
Well. Collin has no idea what to do about that. But he can certainly try!
"Wes, you holdin up alright?"
There is, technically, a reply from Wes, but between the stuttering and the hyperventilating, Collin can't make it out.
"Does it hurt? Want me to grab some ice?" Collin tries, and then adds, "Well, shoot, does the coffee shop even have ice?"
Wes nods, but doesn't point out where the ice is, so Collin stays seated, shifting awkwardly where he sits on top of the coffee bean sacks next to Wes. When Mom does this, anything Collin does just hurts, so he does nothing, and he waits for it to pass.
It has not yet passed when Collin lets Taylor, Todd, and Dalton in at the front door of the shop. Todd is the only one who bothers asking what happened, while Dalton starts grabbing Todd's first aid kit from the trunk and Taylor stomps directly to the stockroom.
Taylor is relieved that Dalton, after spending the whole car ride to the coffee shop badgering Taylor about don't look so tense dude he’s alright Collin said so it wasn't your fault, opts to take care of the nasty looking gash on Collin' neck before following Taylor to the stockroom. Wes is sitting, almost curled up, on a coffee bean sack, rocking back and forth and sobbing. It's hard to even tell how beat up he is through the flinching, fidgety movement.
"Wes." No response. "Wes." Taylor isn't even sure Wes is hearing him. His hands, torn to shreds with what looks like road rash, tangle themselves in his hair and he starts yanking on it— a habit Taylor hasn't seen since sixth grade. "Wes, dude, you're hurting yourself." Nothing. And Taylor's getting a little desperate— desperate enough that he can't think of a solution fast enough. Before, if Wes was freaking out, he could just distract him with something and the panic would dissipate, but right now Taylor can't even manage to distract himself from the guilt and fear. How could he be stupid enough to think Wes would really trust him? How can he possibly be making this about himself right now?
"Wes—" but Taylor can't think of the right words, he's never been able to think of the right words, so he just unfolds Wes's hands, so gently, prying them from the skin of his scalp. Taylor whispers, "Please, stop hurting yourself."
Wes's whole body shivers with the weight of his next sob, and Taylor resists the urge to shut down, to lash out, to drop Wes's hands and leave him alone in the stockroom of the coffee shop. He tries to think of something that's going to help, anything, and before he can think of anything, his brain spits out, "Goddamn, you're outdoing me in how beat up we can get before Christmas. I'll have to find someone else to kick my ass to keep my spot as the resident punching bag of the group."
"I-i-i-if you d-d-o tha-th-that," Wes stammers between hiccuping breaths, "I wi-i-ill kill you."
Great. Fuck, Taylor feels stupid for saying it, but it got Wes's rapidly spiraling attention, so he'll take it. "Nah," Taylor says, "I'm just gonna go hang out outside a bar again. Pick a fight with another dissatisfied married couple."
Wes screeches, "I-is th-that what-t you d-do!?" He yanks his hands out of Taylor's and pokes at the healing bruise on Taylor's forehead, saying, "You just p-pick fight wi-ith guys out-outside b-b-bars!?"
"He does what!?"
And there's Dalton, at the door of the stockroom with a first aid kit, looking all kinds of concerned.
"Dalton, you should not be surprised by this anymore," Todd sighs, following Dalton into the room. "He's always getting in fights— oh, Jesus Christ, Wes, dude, what happened?"
And that would be the question, wouldn't it?
Because every part of Wes that's visible around his jacket and jeans is angry red or crushed purple. He's got one black eye that's on its way to swelling shut, his nose is bleeding, half his face is scraped up from the road salt, shoes, and pavement, and everything he's wearing is disgusting and wet from the post-snow slush in the alleyway. Taylor's seen enough fights to know about how this one went down, but he carefully avoids the part of his brain that could map this shit out like a stopmotion video and lets Wes and Collin explain it instead. Maybe it's not as bad as Taylor thinks.
"Th-the-they, um— well, I—"
"Take a breath, Wes," Todd tries.
Wes nods, fingers spasming in his lap, and Taylor grabs his hand just to hold onto some part of him. Wes starts to fiddle with Taylor's fingers instead of his own. It helps. "I saw th-them outside the shop while I was c-closing up-p. Alex Morenson, and Mathew Megans and Jasper Liu. I kn-knew why they were here—"
"Were they threatening you?" Todd asks.
"N-no— er, yes," Wes stammers, "They do the same sh-shit to me at sch-school. So I kn-knew."
Dalton cries, "They beat you up at school!?"
"N-not at school."
"So other places!?" Dalton interjects again.
"They've been pretty quiet since I st-started h-hanging out with you guys."
Collin frowns, "'Cept today, I guess." Wes doesn't know this, but Collin told Dalton, Taylor, and Todd what he heard in that alleyway as they came in the door, that word that rhymes with 'agate'. Today wasn't a random happenstance, today was a direct result of what happens when you let resident asshole Freddy Peters stir up mini hate groups all around school with no consequences just because his mom donates a bunch of money to the PTA.
Wes shrugs, and it makes him wince from some bruise nobody can see under the shirt. Taylor's fingernails itch to dig themselves into his skin, but Wes's still got his hand, rubbing fidgety little circles between his digits. "I t-texted Collin when I went to t-t-t-take the trash out-t, and th-they-they were waiting f-for me. I th-thought I was texting Taylor, but your names are next to each-ch other in my ph-phone—"
Taylor shouldn't be so happy about that, about being the person Wes wants to call when he needs something. The guilt is still a stench so overpowering that it makes Taylor's eyes water, but the fact that Wes wanted to text him alleviates some of the pressure. Somebody wanted his help. Somebody wanted him to come. Somebody wanted him.
Taylor still can't believe he's making this about himself right now.
Dalton says, "Alright, let's get you cleaned up." Wes nods and sits stiller than Taylor ever has while Dalton starts cleaning the road salt and asphalt grit from Wes's face. Dalton isn't always great with being gentle, so Todd, pre-med gifted and talented kid that he is, takes over eventually.
Taylor sees Collin has a ring of bandaids around his neck. They tried to fucking kill him— both of them. "Your neck," he says to Collin.
"O-oh!" Collin squeaks, "One of 'em got me good with one of those plastic things that hold the cans together, like at the supermarket? Wes pushed 'im off me 'fore he did any real damage though!"
"Collin, w-where did you learn to fight like that?" Wes asks. "I took boxing cl-classes when I was little, but th-that was— you—" he glances at Taylor, which is a clear enough indicator of how dangerous Collin is. Now, Taylor knows how Taylor got so good at fighting, even if nobody else does, and it isn't because he took boxing classes. If there's other kids— aside from the kids who actually take martial arts classes of some kind— who are as good as Taylor is at fighting, that's fucking bad, as far as Taylor is concerned. It means they care more about winning than getting hurt, or that they’re used to fights they can’t win.
"Collin—" he starts, but then Collin gets spooked by something.
His eyes go big and wide and he shifts in his coat and says, "I-I uh, I better text Jax. He's already gonna be all kindsa cross with me for not texting him first."
He goes out to the front of the shop, out of earshot. A few minutes later, when Todd and Dalton have almost finished fussing over Wes, Taylor gets a text.
Jaxson Dixon: Macready
I stg
Tell me the truth.
What the FUCK happened to my bf.
Taylor Macready: homophobes
wes texted him nstead of me
idfk
Jaxson Dixon: U r, without a doubt, the LEAST descriptive person in the world and i am going to kill u for it
Taylor Macready: we're at the shop come get me
ill kick ur ass
Jaxson Dixon: tayby baby i was kidding
Im not actually gonna fight u???
Taylor Macready: somebody better
Jaxson Dixon: tf r u on my guy?
Taylor Macready: wait hang on todds says we're meeting at his house now
see u there dipshit
Jaxson Dixon: aight
If my bf comes to ANY further harm before i get there i will hurt u
Wait no u seem to enjoy that
I will hurt ur bf <3
Taylor Macready: id like to see u try
oh boy oh boy here’s that second drop. there will be others. i am seeing why some of yall are saying this is too heavy to read casually (^u^”) anywhoosiewoosie!! how to get away with marriage is coming along nicely in the writing process, so look for a poll soon about what novel should be up next (or, if you can’t wait, pitch your favs at me in the comments! squeaky wheels get oil y’all, I have no clue what u want if u don’t tell me <3)
Also everyone wish Baby happy birthday! He turns three today (April 1st, because he is my little fool), and it will likely be his last birthday, as he has congestive heart failure. He is in great spirits for it, and I’m going to make him some homemade treats and get him a new scratching board today <3
YALL ARE THE BEST <3
Scream at me in the comments!! Nothing brings me more joy!!!!
How to Get Away With Marriage!!