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I rushed through, adding the soap, no longer caring if it was the right amount. It was time to get the fuck out of there.
“It is. Those people are sick. Tainted by the devil. You need to stay away from him before he taints you, too.”
“Mrs. Graham, I’m gay too.”
Fuck.
There was a loud gasp, and then the shouting began.
“Byron! You brought one of them into my home! Out! Both of you get out of my house. I’m calling the police. Get them to arrest you both!”
“I plan to marry your son and spend the rest of my life taking excellent care of him. He’ll never have to deal with your hatredif he doesn’t want to,” Sebastian stated in a booming voice above her screeching.
I tripped over my feet at his words, barely catching myself. Part of me argued that he only said that to get back at my mother. Yet there was such a fire of determination blazing in his eyes as he glared at her. I knew he believed every word he spoke.
But there was no way I was going to hold him to such a promise. My mom had a way of getting under a person’s skin and driving them to do and say things they would regret later.
“Get out!” she screamed, her voice growing shriller to the point of cracking.
I reached Sebastian and shoved him to the door. “Food will be delivered in an hour. I started a load of laundry in the washer and the air conditioner is now working,” I informed her, not caring if she was paying attention. “I’ll return in a few days to check on you.”
“Don’t come back! You’re not welcome here. You’re not my son. Ronnie’s my only son!”
It was not the first time she’d told me to stay away or even the first time she’d disowned me. And without a doubt, it wouldn’t be the last time.
17
SEBASTIAN COURTLAND
As soon aswe stepped outside and escaped her screams, I glanced at Byron. His entire body looked sunken in, his head hung and shoulders slumped as if he were trying to curl into a protective ball while remaining mobile.
Did he have to deal with this every time he went to see her? He bought her food, cleaned her house, ran himself ragged to make sure she was okay, and she still treated him like shit.
If that had been me, I would have told her to fuck off a long time ago. She could starve for all I cared. It wasn’t like she had to thank him for physically and financially supporting her, but keeping her mouth shut would have been fair.
But this wasn’t about me and my rage over her treatment of her son. This was about Byron and his pain.
I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him against my body as we walked to his car. Despite the heat, he felt chilled to me. The only thing that mattered was getting him away from this place as quickly as humanly possible.
“Give me your keys. I’ll drive,” I said, holding out my hand.
Byron opened his mouth but for a couple of seconds, nothing came out. In the end, he closed his mouth without saying a word.He handed his keys over with a nod and allowed me to help him into the passenger seat.
After a few adjustments, I had us racing down the street and winding out of this neighborhood of small homes, chain link fences, and old trees. It reminded me of my childhood home, when my parents were both working and struggling to make ends meet with two kids and a mortgage. The entire area felt so familiar and yet so foreign at the same time. It had been more than a decade since I’d traveled along a street like this, so different from the neighborhoods I’d lived in while in high school and college. A world apart from where my home sat. It left me feeling uncomfortable and out of touch.
Byron sighed next to me, dragging my wandering thoughts away from me and back to him. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He slumped low in his seat, his elbow resting on the door and his head leaning on his hand with his eyes closed. I couldn’t stand to see the defeat in him.
But how could I possibly help him? I’d never felt so utterly helpless in all my life. All I wanted to do was lift this horrible burden from Byron’s shoulders, so he wouldn’t feel so trapped all the time. I could offer to pay for a rehab program for Byron’s mother, or maybe help to place her in an assisted living situation, so someone else was taking care of her instead of the son she clearly hated. None of these things would improve her opinion of Byron, but they might help to ease Byron’s mind and remove some of the hate from his life.
Would he even accept my help with this matter? This whole dating bargain to pay for his brother’s hospital bills had made Byron grumpy. I didn’t know how to frame this to make it easier for him to swallow. Byron rightfully had his pride, and I didn’t want to step on it any more than I had.
On my way to the highway that would carry us north across the Ohio River, another sign caught my attention and led meon a quick detour. A few minutes passed before I was hitting the turn signal and slowing the car to turn into the park. Byron opened his eyes and immediately sat up, taking in his surroundings.
“I’m sorry. Did you get lost? I should have been giving you directions,” he said.
“No, I’m not lost. I thought we could go for a walk. You look like you need to talk, and I’ll do a much better job of listening to you if I’m not trying to concentrate on the road.” I held my breath, waiting for him to argue with me, but he didn’t.
Byron nodded. “Yeah. A walk sounds nice.”