THE NIGHT BEFORE THE EVENT, I was invited out to dinner with Adam and his family. I had been staying with them for a couple of days at that point, and while Adam continuously reassured me that Ryan was happy to have me there, I felt like an interloper in their lives. The last thing I wanted was for my drama to spill over into their personal lives, and yet there I was encroaching on their personal space.
I was a bundle of nerves, but that wasn’t anything new. Adam was being secretive as to where we were going. He would only tell me to dress nice. That presented a challenge to me. I owned nice shirts, but only khakis. I hoped those would be sufficient.
I was checking myself one last time in the bathroom mirror when I heard someone knock at the door. Without thinking, I called out, “Come in.”
“You about ready?” Adam walked in, dressed in a pair of black slacks and navy-blue button-down. His beard was neatly trimmed and his hair actually done, parted to the side and wavy. His eyes looked like deep pools of chocolate. He took my breath away.
I immediately felt underdressed. “I need to—”
“You look fine,” he said, coming to me and wrapping his arms around me. “You look better than fine, in fact. Too bad the guys are waiting in the other room.”
He gave a waggle to his eyebrows as he spoke, and I giggled. I fucking giggled. The things that man made me do, made me feel.
I leaned into him, laying my head against his chest, and clung to him, willing my nerves away. He kissed the top of my head and lazily ran his fingers over my back.
After a moment, he whispered, “You ready?”
“No,” I answered truthfully. “But let’s go anyway.”
He kissed my head again. “That’s the spirit.”
I stepped around him and headed to the door, opening it.
Ryan and Lucas were waiting for us in the living room.
“Took you two long enough. I was afraid I’d have to go in and pull you two apart.” Ryan’s eyes held mirth, so I knew he was kidding, but I still felt embarrassed.
We left the condo and climbed into Ryan’s car. As he pulled away, Ryan said, “I’d have sent Lucas, but he’s young and impressionable, you know.”
That earned a “Dad!” from Lucas. But he was smiling too.
It was odd and comforting at the same time to be in the company of Adam’s brother and nephew, and have them so accepting of us. Accepting enough to be able to joke about it. That thought put me further at ease while we made our way.
Adam reached over and grasped my hand, interlacing our fingers together. “You know how to get there?”
“‘There’? Where’s ‘there’?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise,” Ryan said.
“One of Dad’s favorites,” Lucas chimed in.
As he said that, Mancy’s came into view, and I went rigid. I glanced at Adam, and I knew he could see the fear in my eyes. He gave our joined hands a gentle squeeze meant to reassure me. I immediately regretted what I was wearing.
Ryan parked, and he and Lucas climbed out of the car. Adam jumped out and raced around to my side, opening my door. Did he think I was going to bolt? I climbed out, and he leaned in to whisper, “I’m sorry. Ryan’s idea. He wanted to take you out someplace nice. I argued against it, but lost.”
Ryan’s idea.
Take you out someplace nice.
I nodded, appreciating Adam’s attempt. I walked slightly ahead while Adam closed the car door. He jogged up behind me and placed a hand on the small of my back. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”
Adam had kept every promise he had made me so far. A strange sense of calm washed over me, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of his hand on my back, the promise he made, or the fact that the whole affair had been Ryan’s idea for my benefit. What I did know was that for once, I was with people that actually wanted to be with me, and that I wanted to be with.
I glanced back at Adam. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be by your side the entire time. I love you.”
He led me to the entrance where Ryan and Lucas were waiting. Ryan opened the door and ushered us in.
Once inside, Ryan approached the host and announced that there were reservations for four. The host grabbed four menus and led us through the restaurant to the back corner. Darker than the rest, I couldn’t help but think that Ryan had selected that spot on purpose, maybe to calm my own fears. Perhaps that was wishful thinking on my part. The table itself was round, perfect for conversation. Delicate stemware and plates were already placed, along with gleaming silverware. Truth be told, I never knew what to do with the two forks already set, but I figured I would take my cues from Adam.
True to his word, Adam sat to my left with Lucas to my right and Ryan across from me.
We made small chit chat. Lucas was understandably happy to be out of the hospital. His test results had come back, and there had been no sign of the cancer. He seemed to be in complete remission, although he would have to undergo periodic tests to ensure it hadn’t returned.
Ryan seemed to have a lighter air about him as well. Again, understandable. His son seemed to have persevered the worst that life could throw at him and come through the other side strong and healthy.
I truly admired Ryan. He had stuck by his son’s side through his entire ordeal. Briefly, I wondered if my own father would have had the tenacity to do what Ryan had, and I knew he hadn’t. He had failed to keep it together when my mother died, and, worse yet, abandoned my brother and me in favor of the bottle.
Shaking those thoughts from my head, I glanced in Adam’s direction and caught his eye. He grinned at me, almost shyly, and I couldn’t help but to grin back.
The waiter arrived to take our drink orders. Ryan ordered a bottle of wine for the table. Never a wine connoisseur myself, I didn’t object. Add into the fact that I knew what kind of effect alcohol could have on people, I rarely drank. I ordered a simple water, while Adam ordered a beer and Lucas a pop.
“David, are you excited about tonight?” Ryan began.
“Excited and nervous. I want everything to go off without a hitch.”
Adam reached over and took my hand. “Nothing to be nervous about. You’ve done an amazing job of setting all of this up.”
“I just had the idea. Everyone else ran with it.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Without you, none of this would be happening. You made all of this happen.”
Pride swelled in my chest, something that I was unaccustomed to. I saw it reflected back at me in Adam’s expression. Pride, and something else. Something bright and vibrant. Sitting at the table, holding his hand, I allowed that feeling to wash over me. I had been told for so long that I was undeserving of someone else’s love, that I shouldn’t feel love for another person. And yet there I was. I knew, without Adam actually saying the words, what he felt for me. And I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what I felt for him. I should have been running scared, but I found that I couldn’t. I wanted to bask in that new feeling, live in it forever.
I couldn’t help myself. I grinned. Full-on grinned. I knew I had to look like an idiot, but I didn’t care. Adam gave my hand a soft squeeze. “You okay?”
“Never better. Honestly. Never better.” And that was the truth.
We made our way to the hospital after the restaurant. Adam had the forethought to pack our costumes in the trunk, for which I was grateful. With all of the thoughts that had been running through my head, and all of the planning, I had completely forgotten that we were also dressing up.
Adam handed Ryan, Lucas, and me our costumes and grabbed a small bag for himself. Ryan had reminded me at dinner what he and Lucas were dressing as, Batman and Robin, and I found that comically endearing and appropriate. Although I had also vocalized my surprise that Lucas hadn’t insisted on dressing as Spider-Man since that was his favorite character.
Adam, however, never told me what he was dressing as.
The hospital had been kind enough to give us use of one of the private locker rooms to change in. Ryan and Lucas made quick work of their costume change, but Adam hung back.
“I need help with mine,” he whispered to me. There was a hint of arousal in his voice that made my breath hitch.
Ryan came up behind him, Batman’s cowl dangling behind, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Gonna be much longer? Everyone will be here soon.”
By “everyone,” I assumed he meant Greg and Owen.
“Go on ahead. We’ll catch up shortly.”
Ryan gave Adam a smirk as he and Lucas left the locker room.
“Okay. So, what’s the mystery?”
“Open the bag.” He directed, pointing at the small duffle.
Unzipping it, I found a green wig, green body paint, and purple shorts. I knew right away who he was going as.
“Oh my God! You are not!”
His grin widened almost Cheshire in appearance. “But I am. And that’s what I need the help with.” Then he waggled his eyebrows. “Will you do my back?”
I couldn’t help myself, I laughed. Hard. Harder than I had in a long time. Leave it to Adam to turn a situation that he knew I was stressed about into something fun and exciting.
He reached into the bag and handed me the shorts and body paint. I watched as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, popping first the top button, then the second. I stared wide-eyed until every button had been undone. Then he pulled the shirt free from his pants and slipped it over his arms. Folding it, he slid it into the bag.
“You need to change too,” he said as he slowly unbuckled his belt. I stood frozen in place, unable to move. He was so pristine, slim and muscled, and for a fraction of a second, I again questioned what he saw in me. That question fell away quickly as he unsnapped his pants and unzipped. Grasping them on either side of the waist, he slid them down his thighs, then his calves. Lifting his left leg out then his right, he carefully folded them and placed them inside the bag on top of the shirt.
He stood in front of me clad only in his green boxer briefs, which I found incredibly appropriate given his planned costume. I drank in his beauty, the dusting of hair on his chest, the nipples that perked up in the chill of the room, the abdominals that tapered down to his waist, the trail of hair that bisected those abdominals and disappeared under the waistband of those boxer briefs. The pronounced bulge of his obvious erection. The tattoo on his left arm that ran shoulder to wrist. I had never been a fan of tattoos, but my God was his incredible.
I looked into his face and found even more beauty there. His wavy hair now slightly disheveled, and those lips that had kissed me in places I never knew existed.
I marveled at the depths of desire I found reflected in his chocolate-colored eyes. Desire for me, want for me. I could easily become addicted to that, and I found myself reveling in that addiction.
“You’re not changing,” he said, slowly approaching me like he was a predator and I was his prey. “Here. Let me help.”
I still couldn’t move as he unbuttoned my shirt. Leaving it open, he stood before me again. He placed his right hand onto my chest, directly over my heart. “Your heart’s racing. You need to calm down.”
He leaned in and brushed my lips with his. “I know what you need.”
With that, he sank to his knees, and my breath hitched again. He took hold of my belt buckle and unbuckled it, pulling my belt free from the loops and laying it next to the duffle. He then unsnapped and unzipped my pants and let them fall to the floor. Kneeling in front of me, he untied my shoes and slipped them off. Tapping my left leg first, he helped pull me free from them until I stood in only my own boxer briefs.
He palmed my erection through my underwear, paying close attention to the dark spot of liquid that had formed at the front.
“We can’t. Not here,” I warned.
“You worry too much. Ryan took care of everything.”
I had to wonder what he meant by “everything.” Surely Ryan hadn’t intended a sexual rendezvous in a locker room of the hospital when he arranged this. My musing was interrupted. “God, I love you so much. You are so beautiful.”
I believed him. I felt it. Maybe it was because of everything I had accomplished in the past month or maybe it was because I was finally beginning to see myself the way he saw me.
He pulled my underwear down, and I sprang free, almost hitting him in the chin. He bit his lower lip, grasping me by my base. Peering up at me through dark eyelashes, he slowly guided me to his open mouth. I gasped when I hit the back of his throat.
He placed his hands on my hips, pushing and pulling ever so slightly. I got the hint. Threading my fingers through his hair, I took hold, careful not to pull, but needing the balance. I retracted my hips, pulling my cock from his mouth until only the crown remained. He placed his hands on my ass and pulled, forcing me back in.
His wet heat enveloped me and coursed through my body. He raised his right hand to my nipple and gave it a gentle pinch, and I gasped again. He gave a light chuckle that reverberated through my cock, and he pinched me again, spurring me on. “Oh God. Adam!”
I barely recognized my own voice as I fucked his mouth with abandon, knowing that was what he wanted, and knowing that was what he wanted to give to me.
He used his left hand to play with my balls. First my left, then my right, then both. Rolling them around like they were dice. Gently pulling and tugging. I never knew that playing with balls could be such a turn-on until I met Adam. Now, I couldn’t imagine sex without a little ball play.
He hummed a tune that my brain didn’t recognize but my body did, vibrating through me like a tuning fork. My speed picked up, and that telltale heat pooled at the base of my spine. He sensed it too. His hands tugged rougher on my scrotum, urging the contents inside to spill.
“Fuck! Adam, I’m gonna…Adam!” In a searing jolt of pleasure, I shot, pumping myself into his mouth, again and again until I was drained. He swallowed my offering after each burst.
I felt weary and boneless, sweet exhaustion rolling across me, along with an unexpected peace.
He gently set me down on the bench beside the duffle bag and stood. He brushed his mouth with the back of his hand, clearing away the excess saliva and cum, and licked it clean. I simply stared openmouthed.
“Still stressed?”
“No. Can’t feel anything, actually.”
“Good. I take that as a job well done then.”
I smirked at him and he glided his palm across my cheek. “I meant what I said. You are beautiful. Never forget it.”
“And if I do?”
“Then I’ll have to remind you. Every chance I get. Now come on, get ready. I really do need help with my back and you need to get into your costume.”
“Aye, aye captain.” I said, giving a mock salute.
“Careful. You wouldn’t like it when I’m angry. Hulk smash!”
That made me giggle.
“Adam?”
“Yeah.”
“I…I do love you. I know it’s hard sometimes, being with me. But I do love you.”
He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. “I love you too.”
Stepping out into the hallway after changing was a surreal experience. I felt as if everyone knew what we had done in there and that they were all looking at me and judging. Of course, no one really was. Doctors and nurses jostled past us, some casting questioning looks at a bearded Incredible Hulk, Spider-Man, Batman, and Robin. But no one said a word.
Greg and Owen soon found us. Greg dressed as Deadpool, which I found oddly appropriate, and Owen was dressed as Captain America. Again, oddly appropriate given his position as “elder statesman” of the group.
A mild ruckus could be heard in the distance, slowly making its way in our direction. Peering off, I saw a camera man and female reporter barreling in our direction. I thought nothing of it. Maybe there had been a car accident or fire they were covering, and they were looking to interview the victims.
No such luck.
They stopped in front of our motley crew. “David Barrows? Which one of you is David Barrows?”
I looked around, half expecting someone else with my name to step up. Ryan and Adam both looked at me, and Adam put his hand on my shoulder as he turned to her. “This is David.”
“David, Sheena Westerly from ATOL News. I understand you’ve put together quite a thing for the children in the cancer ward tonight,” she said, thrusting a microphone in my face.
Adam turned and peeled my mask off. “He has.”
I glanced at him, thankful for his help in taking control, albeit limited.
“This was no small feat. Between coordinating with the hospital and gathering donations, how were you able to pull all of this off?”
“I had a lot of help,” I stammered out.
“Modest and handsome.”
I felt a hand at the small of my back, and instinctively knew that it was Adam. He always seemed to know when I was in jeopardy of flailing and was willing to lend his support, silently even. For the briefest of moments, I wondered if he would leave a green handprint behind, and the thought made me smile.
I blushed. “No, I did. None of this would have been possible without the help of these gentlemen.” I waved my hand to my gathered group. “They were the ones that did all the leg work.”
“But it was your idea. You’re the one that coordinated it,” Adam put in.
“That may be, but it was a group effort. I couldn’t have done it on my own.”
Adam turned to the reporter. “He really is modest, isn’t he?”
I could have kicked him.
Ms. Westerly turned her attention from me and zeroed in on Greg and Owen, and her cameraman followed suit.
I turned to Adam. “What are they doing here?” I asked, waving toward the reporter.
Adam shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe the hospital contacted them. Free publicity never hurts. And everyone likes a good humanitarian story.”
“Oh, so I’m a humanitarian now?”
Adam grinned. “Every day, baby.”
He wrapped his arms around my neck, not caring who saw, and I found that I didn’t either. As long as he was with me, I felt untouchable and safe. Green paint and all.
He leaned into me. “If you get green paint on me, I swear.”
He chuckled against me, and brushed my lips with his. “Oh, do you now?”
I couldn’t help but grin. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe.”
After the commotion caused by the reporter died down, Ryan and Owen went to their respective cars and got the bags filled to overflowing with candy. I will admit, I found a certain amount of humorous irony in the idea of taking so much of what was bad for you into a facility that was meant to be everything but.
One of the nurses brought a cart, and we all loaded the bags up. Soon, a hodgepodge collection of superheroes was going room by room handing out bags and well-wishes. The kids were dressed in costumes of their own and seemed delighted, and some of the parents genuinely taken aback by the effort. A few even met us at the door with tears in their eyes. I was silently grateful that I was wearing a mask so that no one could see my own.
I had no idea how many people it would touch. It was almost overwhelming. More than once, I wanted to excuse myself to go to one of the bathrooms just to cry. To see all of those children with life-threatening illnesses, wanting nothing more than to be allowed to be children was truly heartbreaking. It also allowed me to view the relationship that Ryan had with Lucas in a whole new way. Ryan rarely left Lucas’s side through his ordeal, and would do literally anything to protect his son. I saw that level of commitment over and over in the eyes of the parents.
I vowed that it wouldn’t be the last time I did something like that, even if I had to do it on my own. I knew, however, that I wouldn’t have to. I knew that Adam would be by my side every step of the way.
That warmth rushed over me again at the mere thought of any kind of future with him. I poked it and prodded at it trying to loosen some of the fear that was typically attached to that warmth.
There was none.
Adam and I were trailing behind as Ryan pushed the cart, flanked on either side by Owen, Greg, and Lucas. Without even thinking about it, I reached out and found Adam’s hand. Interlacing our fingers, I gave it a slight squeeze. I didn’t need to look at him to know he was surprised. I could feel it, coursing through his body and into mine. But there was something else there too, and it mixed with everything that I had been feeling, and it just felt…right.
The candy seemed to be distributed in record time, but in fact, it took a few hours. Parents, patients, and hospital staff all wanted to stop and chat with us, and they all seemed incredibly grateful. There was such an outpouring of love and support for something that I had originally thought to be minor. Others saw it differently.
Soon, the carts were emptied and taken back by the staff, and the six of us milled about in the parking lot. The sense of pride was palpable, each of us basked in the glow. Adam’s arm was draped over my shoulder casually, and my hand played with his dangling fingertips.
We chatted until Lucas let out the first yawn, and Ryan took that as a signal that we should head out.
As we said our goodbyes, Greg threw his arms around me in a crushing embrace. I was in genuine shock. Greg was the picture of masculinity. My heart ached for him, and his relationship with his brother. I found myself wondering where his brother was. I felt an odd kinship with Greg, we were both experiencing the same problem, but for vastly different reasons. “He’s a keeper, ya know,” he whispered against my ear. “He looks at you like everything revolves around you.”
I returned his embrace, whispering back, “The feeling is quite mutual.”
“I’m happy for you, man.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
It did too. Maybe it was the events of the night, or maybe it was the bond that Greg and I had been developing since meeting Adam. But I truly felt like I had a friend, someone that was watching my back.
“This was fucking amazing,” Greg said, taking hold of my shoulder and giving it a firm shake.
“It wouldn’t have happened without your help,” I said, suddenly feeling very emotional from his praise. “I honestly don’t know where I’d be right now if it weren’t for you.”
“That’s what friends are for, David. That’s what we are. I hope you know that.”
“I do,” I choked out. I couldn’t trust myself to speak anymore.
Greg gave my shoulder one final squeeze, then turned and followed Owen to the car.
It was odd, really, at least for me. My life had changed so much since meeting Adam that I hardly recognized my old self. I knew he still existed. Your past never goes away. But I was also beginning to learn that your present doesn’t need to be dictated by it.
By the time I got to Ryan’s car, Lucas was already fast asleep in the front passenger’s seat. Adam and I climbed into the back, and our hands found each other on their own.
The car was comfortably silent as we headed back to my place. I needed to pick up some clothes if I was going to continue staying with Adam. I was sure that we were all lost in our own thoughts over the success of the night. I also suspected that none of us wanted to risk waking Lucas. After everything he’d been through, he needed as much rest as possible.
Soon, we pulled into the parking lot behind my building. Adam climbed out of the car at the same time I did, and silently escorted me up the stairs to my door. “Maybe we should stay here tonight,” I said without turning to look at him.
He brushed his hand down my back and I turned. “Are you sure?”
I favored him with a smile. That feeling I recognized at the restaurant came back full force. Stronger than before, more potent. Heat, desire, and love. I had never felt it before, at least not in that way. I certainly knew it when my mother was alive, but that was something different, on an entirely different level.
That realization should have sent me running into my studio and slamming the door in his face. It would have before. But after recognizing it for what it was, I remembered seeing it reflected back in his eyes. Over and over, he was telling me he loved me, not with words but with his actions and his soul. He knew me better than I knew myself sometimes. He knew what I needed even before I did, and never hesitated to give it to me.
I was so deeply in love with Adam that the very concept was mind-boggling. I felt freer with him than I had ever felt on my own.
I laughed out loud and Adam’s brows knit together, concern etched in his features. I reached for him, taking his face in the palm of my hand, and he leaned into me. My thumb lazily traced the worry lines near his eyes, wishing I could erase them because I knew I was partially responsible for them being there.
“Yes, I’m sure. One night can’t hurt anything, can it? What are the chances that my father’s going to show up tonight? I have to work in the morning. There’s no point in coming back tomorrow if we’re already here.”
His face lit up and in that instant those lines were gone. “I’ll Uber home.”
I laughed again at his enthusiasm as he raced down the stairs and toward Ryan’s car, then I turned and unlocked my door. I stepped in, flipped the light on, and turned into the room…
To find my father sitting on my couch.
With a revolver lying across his lap.
For a moment, I didn’t think he was real. I blinked, truly believing I was seeing things.
My blood went cold. That man had made my childhood a living hell, beat me into submission on a daily basis with his words and his fists.
“It took you long enough to get here. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting,” he said, sitting on my couch as if he belonged there. “Come in, have a seat.”
My feet seemed rooted in the floor. Heart racing, I tried to stay calm. I glanced from the gun to his face and back to the gun. Could I get to him before he got to it? I doubted it.
“I’ve been watching you for a while. Nice place you’ve got here,” he said, lifting a hand and waving it around. “Reminds me of where I’ve been for the last fifteen years. Ironic, really.”
“Watching me?”
“You have something that was taken from me.”
My fists clenched, and my heart raced. “I haven’t taken anything from anyone.”
At that moment, Adam came through the door, oblivious to the fact that we weren’t alone. “Hey, babe, Ryan’s gonna pick me up in the morning.” Then he realized I wasn’t looking at him. “Babe?”
I glanced in the direction of the couch, and he followed my line of sight until he saw our “guest.” He bristled, and took a step in front of me, effectively shielding me. “Who the fuck are you?”
“You’re the boyfriend. Nice to finally meet you.”
“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you better get the fuck outta here.”
Adam took a step forward, but I gently grabbed his arm and tugged, stopping him before he could get any further. “Gun,” I whispered.
He took a step back.
“I saw you on television tonight,” my father said, venom and hate that dripped from each syllable.
He grabbed the gun from his lap and stood. He took a step toward where Adam and I stood, and Adam stretched out his arm in a cross, attempting to shield me more. As he did, he stepped further back, pressing his body into mine.
“You looked so happy, helping those poor kids in the hospital. Probably reminded you of something, didn’t it? You really thought, after everything you took from me, I’d let you get away with it? You stole from me. Years! My life! Everything! You really thought that your good deed tonight with your boyfriend would erase all of that, didn’t you?”
“I haven’t taken a thing!” I yelled. Adam tried to shush me, but I had had enough. I had quickly reached the point where I couldn’t take anymore. Adam continued to back into me until my back finally hit the wall. I had nowhere else to go.
Bile rose in my throat.
Adrenaline started pumping.
The fight or flight instinct kicked in.
He grinned at me, and that cold seeped deeper into my bones.
He waved the gun in the direction of the couch. “Now sit the fuck down.”
Adam and I did as we were told, Adam pushing me in front of him, keeping himself between my father and me.
Once seated, Adam took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. That physical connection to him was almost enough to steel my nerves.
Almost.
My father’s face brightened, like a child that was finally getting his way. “You thought that you could hide from me, that I’d never find you? I admit, it took longer than it should have. But once I did, I knew it was only a matter of time before I got back what you stole. It’s amazing what you learn when you’ve been in prison for fifteen years. Picking your lock was nothing. The first time I set foot into this…dump, I knew you belonged here. Trash with trash.”
He began to pace, his body virtually vibrating with rage. “I never forgot you, David. Or the lies you told that got me put away. You’re just like she was, you know. A liar to the end. You never had to pay for that. She never had to pay for it. But you will now.”
“I never lied about you. Everything I said was the truth! I never understood how you could treat your own son the way you did me.”
“My son?” my father asked. “I never laid a hand on Dylan.”
“What about me, Dad? Why was it always me?”
He chuckled, and it chilled me to the bone. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know? Know what?”
His chuckle turned to full blown laughter. “She never told you. Of course she didn’t. Why would she? She almost took that little piece of information to her grave, but she didn’t. She just had to get one more dig at me before she died.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
He came at me then, shoving his face to within inches of mine, his lips pressed to my ear. I could smell his breath, a combination of cigarettes and stale beer, and my stomach turned.
“You’re not my son,” he whispered. And then he pulled back.
In that moment, everything I knew about myself was turned upside down. He didn’t need the gun to blow my world apart, he did it with words. Everything I knew to be true was a lie. Nothing made sense. My vision tunneled and my world collapsed in on itself. Someone had taken the puzzle that was my life, thrown it into the air, and let it fall to the ground, shattering it into pieces.
I found it difficult to breathe, like an invisible hand was pressing against my chest. My mouth hung open, but I couldn’t draw a breath.
“I was sitting next to her hospital bed the day before she died. Her eyes opened. I leaned in to kiss her and she whispered that she had something to tell me. I sat back in the chair, and she confessed. She’d cheated and got pregnant. I thought you were mine, but she knew better. She had a DNA test done without me knowing. She told me where to find it.”
My brain was having a hard time processing everything that was happening. The entire scene was unbelievable. My father here, in my home. My father…not being my father. I had no idea what to make of any of it.
His ranting grew louder. “The night she died, I found it. You’re not mine.”
He began pacing the room again, becoming even more agitated as he remembered. “She left me with you, a sniveling little faggot that I was forced to take care of. No one could know. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that would be if people found out my wife cheated and you were the result? That I couldn’t take care of her?”
“And I knew you were a fag,” he continued. “I could see it in the way you dressed and talked. You’d been a pussy your entire life. No kid of mine would have ever been queer.”
A gentle squeeze of my hand brought me out of my daze. I looked at Adam, his brown eyes deep with concern. He squeezed my hand again, and I felt a rush, like someone flipped a switch in my mind, and everything began to reorganize, puzzle pieces being put back together to form a new picture.
I finally understood why I was the constant target of his rage while Dylan was left alone, and why my father hated me. I was the living, breathing reminder of my mother’s infidelity, the unwanted thing that he was left to care for after she’d died. None of that made his abuse right, but I had solid, indisputable verbal confirmation that I had done nothing wrong. I had been as much a victim of those fucked-up circumstances as he had been. Perhaps more so. I was the child, an innocent in all of it, left to pick up the pieces after she died, and I didn’t even know all her secrets.
As my father…no, Roger paced my studio, he stopped in front of the sole picture I had of myself and Dylan. He picked up the frame and came rushing back at me. “Where’s my son? Where’s Dylan?”
I flinched involuntarily, and felt Adam squeezing my hand. Adam had been quiet during the exchange which, had I been given the chance to consider it, was extremely uncharacteristic of him. “I don’t know, Roger. I haven’t seen him in fifteen years.”
I chanced a glance at Adam. He was staring at the gun in Roger’s hand, and I could swear he was almost calculating something.
Roger turned and threw the picture against the wall, bellowing at the top of his lungs in frustration. Then he wheeled back to me and waved the gun in Adam’s direction.
“You took everything from me when you lied on the stand.”
“I never lied about you. Everything I said was the truth.” Where I was getting my bravado, I’ll never know. Maybe it was the thought that Adam’s life was in danger, maybe it was anger at Roger’s inability to take responsibility for what he had done and laying all of the blame squarely at my feet. Anger and rage coiled in my gut. The physical connection I had with Adam in our joined hands was the only thing keeping me grounded. “You wouldn’t have gone to prison if you hadn’t been an abusive alcoholic. What’d feel like, huh? Beating on a kid not even half your size. Did it make you feel strong? Powerful? You got what you deserved”
Roger turned to me, his face an eerie calm mask. “You know, when I came here tonight, I had one thing in mind, and that was to take from you what you took from me,” he said, glancing down at our joined hands. “But you have something more valuable that I think I’d rather take. Him.”
And he pointed the gun at Adam.
Everything happened at once.
Adam let out an almost feral scream, launching himself at Roger. At the same moment, the gun muzzle flashed twice and two mini-explosions sounded in the studio. My ears rang from the sound and all I could hear was my blood whooshing through my body. My adrenaline kicked into high gear, and I tried to narrow my focus on Adam.
Adam landed on top of Roger, forcing the other man onto his back with a grunt. They rolled around, each vying for dominance. Roger ended up on his back with Adam covering his body, legs splayed on either side, effectively pinning him to the floor. I couldn’t see the gun from my vantage point. Adam wrapped a hand around Roger’s throat and squeezed, gripping it so tight, I could see the veins protruding on the back of his hand from the exertion.
Roger’s face began turning a sick shade of red from lack of oxygen and contorted into a look of excruciating misery. I heard the muffled pop of the gun, then both men stopped moving.
Both lay still for a moment. I could see Roger struggling for breath, but Adam wasn’t moving. Panic mixed with the adrenaline. Why wasn’t he moving?
Roger pushed Adam off as he gasped for air, and I heard a soft grunt come from Adam as he rolled onto his back. I dove off the couch and landed hard on my knees next to him. Blood appeared on his left shoulder, seeping into his shirt and spreading like a drop of red paint on a canvas.
Nonononononononononononononononononono!
Every instinct in me told me to run and get help, but I couldn’t leave him there, not while he was bleeding, and certainly not with Roger. Anger turned to rage, and it seeped into my bones.
Roger coughed, and I turned in the direction of the sound. The gun lay on his chest and his head lolled back and forth, disorientated. I lunged for the gun, and Roger raised an arm to deflect me. But he was too weak, still gasping for air.
My hand closed around the cold metal of the weapon at the same moment that his hand closed around my wrist. A violent tug of war ensued, and he glanced between the gun and me. Then a slow, wicked smile spread across his face, and he raised his other hand and pointed at me.
“Two for one,” he whispered.
He had to be delirious.
Then I felt the sticky wetness on my arm, dripping slowly down. Raising my hand up, I watched as blood pooled in the palm of my hand. For a moment, I thought it was Adam’s, until the pool grew larger.
Roger chuckled hoarsely then coughed. I used that opportunity to put what little strength I had left into ripping my arm from his hand. He gave little resistance, dropping his hand to the floor.
“You won’t shoot me. You don’t have the balls.”
“Try me. You destroyed my life. You tried taking the man I love away from me. So try me, I dare ya.”
He lunged for me. My brain clouded and my vision turned red. I don’t remember pulling the trigger, only the sound of the gun firing and feeling the recoil as it jolted up my arm.
Roger slumped back to the floor.
I sat frozen, arm outstretched and shaking, ice flooding through my veins.
I had just shot a man.
A man who, up until a short time ago, had been my father. A man who had taken great pleasure in my torture and belittlement. A man who was responsible for destroying my childhood, and possibly my future with Adam.
Adam.
His name echoed through my mind. I felt a hand gently brush against the small of my back, and stay there, breaking me from my fog and re-centering me.
I wheeled around on one knee. Adam’s eyes were open, but he looked tired and weak. I tossed the gun aside, and took the hand that had just been on my back. My heart jackhammered against my chest, and I fought the very real temptation to vomit.
“Adam.”
He groaned as if to answer. “Arm.” He curled his hand into a limp fist and pointed.
I glanced down at my left arm, and saw the blood soaking thorough my shirt at my bicep. Curiously, I didn’t feel any pain.
“Okay?”
I had to smile. Even in this fucked-up situation, his first thought was for my well-being instead of his own. “I’m fine, but we need to get you help.”
I gently placed the hand I had been holding onto his chest. I knew which pocket he kept his cell phone in, so I reached in and pulled it free. Taking a chance that it wasn’t locked, I swiped the screen, only to have it ask for a code. “Adam, I need the code.”
His eyes were getting noticeably heavier, and I felt a ball of panic take shape in my gut. “Adam, code!” I shouted, hoping that if not my words, then the tone of my voice would bring him back to me.
“Birthday.”
I entered his birthday, but nothing happened. I tried Ryan’s and Lucas’s, and still nothing. On a chance, I tried mine. The screen lit up. His wallpaper was us, from the costume shop, each in costume but with my mask off, his arm around my waist and my head against his shoulder. I remembered the picture being taken but had no idea he’d made it his wallpaper.
I jumped up and raced into the bathroom to grab towels as I dialed 9-1-1. The call was answered on the third ring. “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
I tried to keep the panic out of my voice as I spoke, but I don’t know how successful I was. “There’s been a shooting.”
“At what location?”
I gave her my address, and was told help was on the way. I disconnected the call, grabbed the towels, and ran back to Adam.
“Ambulance is on the way. I’m calling Ryan. Stay with me, Adam. Just stay with me.”
His bloody hand reached out and touched my cheek, and he whispered, “Love you.”
I took his hand in mine and tears that I didn’t even know were there ran down my face. Joy and fear and panic warred with each other for dominance. He couldn’t mean it, not after all of this. Not after everything he knew about me. Not after finally meeting the horror of a father I grew up with. He had to be delirious.
Then I looked into his eyes, and I saw it. Despite the pain he was in, there was so much joy in them when he looked at me. Joy, hope, happiness…and love.
I leaned into him, careful not to move him, and brushed my lips to his. “I love you too.”
I scooted closer to him and stretched my legs, lifting his head and laying it back onto my lap as a pillow. Then I called Ryan, and waited for the ambulance.