Page 12 of Beyond the Stix

After John scopes out the large room, Danny and I grab some food, and sit at the far corner of the open space, while Tobias and John sit nearby at another table.

People are looking at us, most of them probably wondering who we are since we have bodyguards hovering nearby. There are a few whose faces are lit up like they know who we are. And of course, there’s one person who has their phone out and is recording us.

Neither Danny nor I pay attention to any of them.

“I want to know the full truth of what actually happened between you and your uncle,” Danny finally whispers, while munching on some fries and tenders.

I gulp down bites of my chicken salad sandwich and then shove a couple of chips into my mouth—anything to keep from having to spill the truth. I never thought I would have to tell my best friend that my uncle had inappropriately fondled my dick when I was a kid. That secret was supposed to stay with me to the grave.

When I meet Danny’s eyes, guilt floods in, because we promised each other that we’d never have secrets between us. But we were kids when we made that oath.

“Tell me,” Danny insists, but with the gentleness he’s known for.

As much as I don’t want to tell him the truth, keeping it from Danny would only incite him to keep asking.

I open my mouth to explain when a shout from the other end of the room has us swinging our heads in that direction.

“Jesus Christ,” Danny hisses as he stands. “He’s like a wart you can’t get rid of.”

I want to laugh at my friend’s comparison, but I’m too damn gut-punched at what I’m seeing. John and Tobias are holding my uncle back, while the asshole is calling out my name.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” Jessup yells. “Connor, I only want a minute of your time.”

John has Jessup’s arms pulled behind his back, while Tobias is in front of the bastard, with a tight grip on my uncle’s shoulders. “Weren’t you told to stay clear of Connor? His bodyguard told you that he doesn’t want to talk to you. You aren’t welcome around him. If you persist, we will call the police and you can talk to them. What will it be?” Tobias snarls.

Danny looks at me, then back at the people who are all watching, especially the one with the cell in his hand. Then two more pull out theirs and start recording.

“Guys,” Danny says in warning.

John clues in, but doesn’t give Jessup any leeway as he tries to struggle out of the bodyguards’ hold.

“I just want to tell him I’m sorry,” my uncle shouts, then winces, like he’s experiencing pain. “Connor, please—You are hurting me, asshole.” Jessup attempts to wrench his arms out of John’s hold, but it’s futile.

“Let him go, John,” I say. If I want this man out of my life for good, I have to cut it off here.

John regards me for a moment, questioning my words, before he release him and Tobias steps back. Jessup tries again to move past the two bodyguards but doesn’t succeed. “Connor.”

As I approach, Danny grips my forearm. “Con,” he whispers with trepidation.

“No, Danny, I’m done.” I shrug off his hand and advance, but stay far enough away that Jessup can’t touch me. “Let him say whatever he needs to say to clear his conscience and then he can leave.”

Danny moves next to me for support, which I appreciate. I need to remain firm, and so I fold my arms across my chest and stare the man down.

John moves in, positioning himself slightly ahead of me, in case my uncle has any idea of coming closer. Tobias flanks my other side.

I’ve learned from the many times we’ve entered or exited buildings, or from when fans have surrounded us for autographs and pictures, that these men will make sure we’re safe. Especially John, who’s always close. A warm tingling begins in my chest, and my suspicion that he cares more than he shows is a small encouragement.

My uncle straightens, looks at me with pleading eyes and takes those small tentative steps. “Con?—”

“Not any closer,” John warns. I can’t see my bodyguard’s face, but I can imagine how intimidating he looks. Another zing jolts my insides and shoots right down to my dick.

This is not the time for a boner, idiot.

Jessup looks around and realizes every pair of eyes in the cafeteria is watching us. I don’t care, since his apology for what he did means fuck-all to me. His words are as shallow as the depth of my feelings toward him. Grade A nothing.

“Can we talk in private,” he says as he looks around us.

“No.” I shake my head.