43
Steve
Sitting on the couch in his best friend’s living room, Steve thought about what had happened. He swore that Dennis had tried to hint that he had a crush on him, as egotistical as that might seem. But Steve pushed the thought away.
Dennis wasn’t an ugly guy; in fact, he was very good looking in a nerdy sort of way. But that was besides that point. He couldn’t see him as any more than that, not after all they’d been through.
Besides, his heart was with James. Maybe before he’d met James, he could have convinced himself that it was all about looks, but now he knew better. No matter how much he tried to tell himself that the time he’d shared with the older man had only been a fling, his heart told him otherwise.
He was still in love with James, and always would be.
He sighed. As safe as Steve was, and happy they had a place to stay, he couldn’t help but miss the older man.
It was fucked up. How could he be in love with someone who had gone to prison for something like that? And yet, part of him wondered if it was even true.
James had tried to deny it, after all. But the prison release paper had said what it said. Why did it feel like there was more to the story? James was so adamant that there was that Steve had been inclined to believe him. He loved him, after all. Would his heart lie to him like that?
Though they hadn’t known each other long, Steve knew James’s heart. He was a good guy, someone who would do anything for him. The person that he knew didn’t match the person that paper said he was.
Boom-boom-boom! Steve turned his head toward the door. “Yo, Dennis. You call the pizza guy?” His stomach rumbled. He’d eaten way too much comfort food lately.
“Yeah, like half an hour ago. It’s probably him. Get that, will you?” called Dennis from the other room where he was playing cars with Kenny.
Steve got up off the couch, and didn’t even bother looking through the peephole before answering it.
He wished he hadn’t made that mistake. As soon as he opened the door, Steve was kicked in the stomach so hard that it almost knocked the wind out of him. He even took a step back in shock.
“Dad,” Steve said, eyes wide with panic. Without thinking, he yelled back, “Dennis! Kenny! Lock the door.”
He then turned back to face the man in the doorway. Standing like he was, swaying and stumbling, with wide, crazy eyes, he looked like a raving lunatic. Paul was drunk again. This time worse than ever. He reeked of beer, scotch, and anger, and the way he hung on to the door frame for support confirmed at least two of these points.
He was so shocked by his dad’s sudden appearance that he hadn’t even noticed the gun until it was pointed in his face. “Now, let me get this straight. You think you can go to my home and get some motherfucker to shove a gun in my face?”
Spit sprayed out of his dad’s mouth with every syllable.
“Steve,” Dennis said, running out and freezing as the gun swung toward him. “Paul, what are you doing?”
Dennis’s words were calm and careful and his eye twitched, looking in the direction of Steve as if to check if he was all right.
Steve turned to his dad and said softly, “Dad, they’re going to call the cops.”
That statement didn’t faze the man, not even a little bit. He pointed the gun at his son again and said, “No, I don’t think Dennis wants to see his best friend shot dead. And I don’t think you do either.”
Angry as Steve was that his father was putting their lives at risk, he tried to keep his temper in check. “Dad, you’re drunk. You don’t mean to do this.”
His screamed at the top of his lungs, “Don’t tell me what I am and am not.”
Steve made sure to keep his voice steady as he raised his hands in the air. “Dad, listen to me. We don’t have to do this. Things can be like they were before, before Mom passed.”
At the mention of his mom, his father’s face softened for a moment, but then he came back with anger. “Don’t talk about your mother, that whore,” he said with vile, more spittle flying from his mouth.
“Dad, you don’t mean that,” said Steve. He hated anyone talking smack about his mother. She was misunderstood back then, but had a heart of gold.
“Fuck yeah, I do. Why do you think she’s dead? That car accident was karma,” said his father, with a smile curled on his lips.
The words shocked him, and he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His blood boiled. “Are you saying…?”
His father stepped closer. “I’m saying, you will learn to fall in line or you might end up seeing her before you think.”
Steve’s nostrils flared. “Dad, you…?”
Cackling, his dad said, “Oh, you thought she was little Miss Crocker, didn’t you? Yeah, when she wasn’t with you, she was out screwing half the town.”
Steve’s fingers curled into a balled fist. He wanted to charge his dad, and if it wasn’t for the gun, then he most certainly would have. “Dad, how could you say…? Put the gun down, please.”
“Why? You gonna sic that bastard on me again? Why? He sucking your dick or something? Yeah, that’s what it is. You two are fudge packers. Always knew you were.”
His father must have known he was gay. Maybe that was why he’d mistreated him so much during the years?
He pressed the gun against Steve’s temple. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you out of your own misery.”