The Love Series Complete Box Set (171 page)

“I better not find out that you’re still friends with that fag,” my father sneered, poking his finger at my chest.

My jaw was clenched so tightly, I thought I might crack a tooth. “Yes, sir,” I gritted out, keeping my eyes glued to the floor.

“That’s all you have to say? He’s a fucking homo and all you have to say is ‘Yes, sir’?” A humorless laugh flew from his mouth and hateful anger glinted in his eyes. My stomach clenched in tight knots. If he was acting this way about Dylan being gay, there was no way in hell I’d ever survive coming out in this house. He was making that crystal clear. Visions of the chaos that my identity would cause swarmed in my brain as he muttered a long string of curses at Dylan.

“Are you listening? I asked you a question, boy.” My father’s hand banded around my upper arm and he shook me violently. Shit, lost in my own head, I hadn’t been paying attention.

“I−I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “What did you say?” The back of his hand connected with my jaw. The force sent me back a few steps and I tasted the metallic tinge of blood in my mouth.

He twisted the collar of my shirt in his hand, pulled my face up to his, and grinned like a mad fool. I stared into his dead eyes, unable to hide the fear. He saw it and just grinned more. He knew he’d won; he won a long time ago. I was a scared little shit when it came to my father and he took advantage of that whenever he could.

“You don’t think it’s okay that he’s queer, do you?” he repeated the question I hadn’t heard before and bile rose in my throat. I only had a split second to say something, any delay would be perceived as going against him. So even though it crushed my heart not to stand up for Dylan, for what we had become—for me, I shook my head. “No, sir. It’s not okay.”

He released my shirt, shoving me back in the process. “Stay away from him, you understand.” I nodded again as shame filled every ounce of my body.

The loud blare of a truck horn shook me out of my memory. I swerved back into my lane, gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled force. Recalling what happened between my father and me altered me somehow.

In all the years he told me I was useless, a failure, I always held on to some kind of hope that I would be able to do something that would make him change his mind. I could play ball better. I could get better grades. I could be a better son. But his adamant hatred of Dylan simply because he was gay opened my eyes to the brutal truth.

I would never be good enough.

Being with Dylan this weekend also opened my eyes—and my heart—to an even bigger truth.

I was in love with the one person who would change my world forever.

The decision was up to me. Either I let my father win and allowed fear to dominate my life, or I fought back, stood up for Dylan and for myself, and finally broke free.

The sun peeked through the clouds as I pulled off the interstate and the answer became clear. There was no choice to be made. It was Dylan. It had always been him and it always would be him. As I got closer to home, my determination to break away from my family became stronger. For the first time ever, I didn’t feel afraid. I felt renewed and Dylan had given that to me.

Pulling down my block, I punched out a quick text to Dylan, letting him know that I made it home all right and that I’d call him later. I was so excited to tell him that I’d finally built up enough courage to confront my father that I didn’t even see the car parked in front of my house.

I walked through the front door to a sound so foreign, I actually took a second to make sure I was in the right house.

Laughter, loud and booming came from the dining room.

My father laughed? Who knew?

I dropped my bag on the stairs and poked my head into the kitchen. That’s when my world spun on its axis.

It was Alex.

What the hell was she doing here? Why was she talking with my father?

She caught sight of me first, noticing my confused face over my father’s shoulder. Her face lit up into a bright smile. “Hey, Shane.” Her smile got bigger and she walked toward me. Looping her arm through mine, she leaned against my side. A wry smile pulled at her lips as she winked at me. I had no clue what she was up to, but this was by far the warmest reception I’d ever received walking into my own home.

“It’s a shame I had to meet your girlfriend like this.” My father stared at me before clapping me on the shoulder as he walked to my other side.

Girlfriend?

My ears had to be playing tricks on me because there was absolutely no way Alex was my girlfriend. That didn’t stop her from stretching up on her tiptoes and popping a kiss on my cheek. Was she delusional?

“I’ll let you two catch up. I have an afternoon meeting I need to get to. Lucky for Alex here I had to stop home and grab something. Otherwise, that poor girl would just be sitting out there waiting for you, Shane.” His glare returned, but he actually beamed at Alex.

“Have a nice day at work, Mr. Connely.” Alex waved at my father as he walked past us and out the front door.

As soon as I heard his car door slam shut, I pulled my arm away from hers. “What the hell?”

She stood there, hands on her hips, looking at me like I’d just slapped her. I brushed by her and into the living room. Flopping back onto the couch with a loud sigh, I interlaced my fingers together behind my head. As she sat next to me, she had enough sense to wipe away the smug look from a minute ago. She actually looked sorry.

“You told him you were my girlfriend?” I turned to face her, frustration making my body rigid and tense. “We had coffee. Once. I
never
said anything about dating you.”

She dropped her hand to my thigh. “It was good coffee, though. Wasn’t it?” Her laughter was soft at first, but it soon became infectious. Laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole situation, I let myself go. I’d just gotten home from a secret weekend getaway with my boyfriend to walk into a home I hate, a fake girlfriend waiting inside.

“Look,” her words cut through the laughter, and we both settled, “I didn’t actually tell him I was your girlfriend. Really, I was just stopping by to drop off your sweatshirt. You left it in the car.”

I arched an eyebrow at her, pulling a face. “Really?” I asked skeptically.

“Yes, really,” she snipped, but then quickly smiled. “I just didn’t correct him when he assumed we were dating,” she added sheepishly, keeping her eyes locked on her twisted-together hands.

Like a lightning bolt splitting the sky, a thought cracked through my mind. I covered her hands with one of mine, timidly, because for all intents and purposes, I barely knew her. She peeked up at me, her eyes hidden under her long, thick lashes. “Look, I’m sorry for lashing out. Maybe we could get together again.” She bounced in her seat, letting me know, not only that she was excited about that idea, but also that I had to tread lightly. If I was going to use her to lie to my family, to make my life a bit easier until I could get out, then I was going to have to walk a fine line with her. “I’m not making any promises. Let’s get to know each other and see where things go, okay?” I felt like I was talking to a small child.

“I’d like that.” She calmed her bouncing and looked at me expectantly.

I stood from the couch and walked her to the front door. She spun on her heels as I opened the door for her. “You’ll call, right?” Her hands went to my chest and I stared down at them like they were claws. It felt as if she was trying to make her mark. Something in my head screamed,
you landed a crazy one here.
But the idea of possibly getting my father off my case, and being able to breathe around here outweighed that voice.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll talk to you soon.” She stretched up and kissed my cheek before strutting down the driveway.

After closing the door, I shook my head, trying to rid myself of my own stupidity. What the hell had I just gotten myself into?

November 16, 2007

The next few weeks went by in a blur. Even though I was weighed down by midterms and studying, my grades were actually improving, much to my shock. I wished I could have said the same thing about my mental state. Balancing the fake relationship with Alex and the very real relationship with Dylan was becoming unbearable. I couldn’t tell him about her or her about him, and I felt as if the ground was just going to crack open and swallow me whole at any moment.

Alex had been to my house a handful of times. My father welcomed her with open arms and I couldn’t, for the life of me, ever figure out why he was so warm to her when all he’d ever give me was the icy coldness of his fists. To make matters worse, Reid seemed to tiptoe around her; uncertainty hung in the air whenever the two of them were in the same room.

I was packing up my things in the library, getting ready to head home for a late night study session when Scott came up to me.

“Hey, man. So I hear you and my sister are hitting things off.” Shaking my head, I laughed. Of course, Alex would tell her brother.

I shrugged and pulled my bag up over my shoulder. “Yeah, I guess.”

He laughed. “I don’t need all the dirty details.” He held my shoulder firmly, grabbing my attention. “I’m just saying be careful with her. Okay?”

There was something hidden in his tone, some brotherly secret he wasn’t willing to divulge, but I heard traces of it in his words.

“Yeah, I got it. I will.” I felt like an asshole. Hell, I was an asshole. There I was stringing along a girl with whom I had no intention of actually dating. How I’d gotten through this last month with nothing more than coffee and study sessions and a few innocent pecks to the cheek were beyond me. It helped that she was knee deep in an anatomy class that didn’t leave her much time to socialize. But she was always willing to make time to see me. When I could see that she wanted more, I always made up some lame excuse about having to go home or about not wanting to rush things.

We walked out of the library together and he asked if I was going to Alex’s party tonight.

“Uh, I hadn’t planned on it,” I deflected and opened my car door.

“It’ll be fun. Besides, you don’t have class tomorrow. Come on.” I didn’t know what spurred his enthusiasm, but to be honest, I did have fun at the last party. Alex may be misreading me, but the sad reality was that Alex and Scott were my only friends.

How pathetic was that?

“Okay, I’ll go.” I gave in mainly because I literally had nothing better to do.

“Cool. See you later, then.” He bumped my fist before walking away.

Things between Alex and me wouldn’t last much longer. They couldn’t. I knew that much, but I hadn’t quite worked it out in my head how to break things off.

As I sat in my car, I tried to push down that part of my life and clear my head enough to call Dylan. We hadn’t talked in the last few days since he was away at some training camp. I’d been busy at my new job at the campus book store—a blessing in that it kept me from having to see Alex as often as she’d like to, a curse because it kept me from talking to Dylan as much as I’d like to.

I dialed his number and my hopes deflated quickly as I got his voicemail. I left a quick message telling him I’d be out for the night, but I’d hoped to hear from him soon, that I missed him. I hoped he’d be around later and we could actually talk. It’d been too long since I heard his voice.

When I got home, I could tell immediately that things were not good. I heard the screaming and yelling from the driveway. Mom’s cries were loud and cut right through me. I jumped from my car, almost forgetting to shift it into park as I pulled into the driveway.

I barreled through the door and was disgusted at shards of broken glass scattered all over the floor. “What the hell?” I said to myself as I raced toward the kitchen.

“Mom!” She was cowered in a corner, her arms wrapped around her waist, lost to a fit of sobs. I crouched down in front of her and she flinched when I brushed her hair out of her face. My stomach dropped when I saw the red welt of a backhanded slap blazing on her cheek.

My father stumbled out of the laundry room, which was at the back of the kitchen. Reeking of scotch, he tossed the broom at Mom and she flinched again.

Something snapped inside of me. Dropping my shoulder, I lunged at my father. He fell to the floor in a drunken stupor. “You asshole,” I roared down at him. He didn’t react; I think he was still surprised to have landed on his ass.

He tried to get to his feet, but I wouldn’t let him. I hovered over him, not giving him an inch of space. “Leave her alone. Leave us all alone. You’re nothing but a drunken coward.” Turning away from him, I saw Mom trying to get up. Her legs were wobbly so I held out my hand to help her.

“What the−?” I couldn’t get any other words out, because my father’s arm wrapped around my throat so tightly I could barely get air into my lungs.

He spun me around and elbowed me in the stomach, leaving me gasping for air. “Don’t you
ever
touch me again,” he slurred, jabbing his finger into my chest on each word. “This is between me and her.” He eyed Mom over my shoulder. “Get out. Now,” he bellowed and Mom placed her hand on my shoulder.

“It’s okay, Shane. I’ll deal with him,” she whispered as he stumbled away from us to go find his precious bottle of scotch.

Holding her frail arms, I searched her face for something. I just didn’t know what. “No, Mom. Come with me. Let’s get out of here.” Thoughts of finally being free from this hell flew through my mind at Mach speed. If I could convince her, then we could all get out.

She shook her head before lowering it. “I can’t.” Her voice wavered, a cry rising in her throat.

“Yes, you can.” I was begging, pleading with her to be strong enough for herself, for both of us, but she was slipping away. She wouldn’t look at me, grabbing for the broom instead to clean up the mess.

She didn’t say anything else. He had beaten her hope to a bloody pulp and I knew I’d be next if I didn’t get out of there soon enough. I just didn’t know how.

Throwing my hands up in angry frustration, I walked away from my mom as she cleaned up the broken glass. I didn’t know how to help myself; I sure as hell couldn’t help her. When I walked past the living room, I was happy to see my father passed out on the couch, the evening news playing softly in the background. At least he’d leave her alone for a while.