Page 73 of Beyond the Stix

She shrugs slightly. “I know he’s been bothering you since your father…” She clears her throat. “Since then. I chalked it up to losing Markus. But I’m guessing there’s more.”

“There is.” With a calming breath, I continue. “Do you remember the night, when I was ten, and I got really sick?”

“How could I forget? You ran off and we couldn’t find you. Danny finally found you the next day in the tree house. Your father and I were beside ourselves with worry.”

“Well… That night, I lied about what really happened and why I ran away,” I say, feeling splintered down the middle at having to tell her the truth. My mother remains silent, but a single tear slips down her cheeks. “He touched me, Mom.”

Her watery eyes widen in shock, but there’s a split second of disbelief shadowing her face. “Are you sure?”

“I was confused for many years, not sure if I was imagining him touching me inappropriately. I confronted him on it, but he explained that I had wet the bed, and he was only cleaning me up. Like it was all a misunderstanding.” There’s glimmer of hope in her eyes, but I quickly squash it. “No, Mom. He later confirmed that he did touch me back then. And I have a feeling that night wasn’t the first time he had done it. He also told me that I’m his, always was, and always will be, before he groped my crotch.”

Her mouth drops open, but she quickly clamps her lips shut, like she’s afraid of what will come out. After several deepbreaths, she finally says, “Your father said that Jessup was all healed from hisissues.”

“Issues?” I reel back. “What issues?”

“Your father told me years ago that Jessup had to be hospitalized in his teens, and was diagnosed with a disorder that makes him obsessed with things. I can’t remember the name of it. But Markus didn’t make a big deal out of it, so I didn’t either.

“But when you came along, your uncle instantly loved you, always wanted to hold you—be near you. And still, I didn’t think anything about it. All the times you guys went camping. The sleepovers at our house.” Her voice cracks as more tears fall. “All the times we left you alone with him.”

“You can’t blame yourself.” I reach for her, but she shakes her head.

“We didn’t know, Connor—not me, or your father, not until after that night you took off. Your father told Jessup that he didn’t want him around you anymore. Markus used Jessup’s sexual orientation against him, and told him that he didn’t want that kind of influence around you.”

“But that was a lie,” I say, knowing where my mother is going with this.

“Yes. Your father never cared who loved who. It was your father’s way to keep you safe.”

“Then why after all this time, did Dad want Jessup back in our lives—asking me if he can bring him to one of my concerts?”

Mom looks me straight in the eyes. “Because that’s still his brother, Connor. He never stopped loving him. Now you’re an adult, with security around you, your father figured it was safe to bring his brother back.”

I release my mother’s hand and lean back against the sofa, as the truth hits me far harder than I realized. “So, you knew all this time.”

She shakes her head. “Not until the day of the funeral. I found a letter from Markus, telling me everything. Please, Connor. Your father loved you so much that he cast aside his only brother for you. But if he had known what bad things Jessup had done to you, your dad would have never asked him to come back.”

I couldn’t breathe—talk—or think, after my mother’s revelations. This whole time, my father knew what kind of man Jessup is.

“I’m sorry, Connor, that Jessup… touched you. If I had?—”

“Mom.” I hug my mother tight. “It’s nobody’s fault—certainly not yours, or Dad’s.”

“But still…” She burst into more tears.

“There’s one thing Dad got right,” I whisper to her.

“What is it?”

“I’m an adult and I do have security around me. I’m safe, Mom.” I hold her tighter.

“I’m glad.” She squeezes me, before stepping out of my arms. “I need to…”

“Me, too,” I reply with a sad smile. “I love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, son.” She then heads off to her room.

“Is everything okay?” Pen peeks around the corner. “I didn’t want to intrude.”

“Thanks, and no it’s not, but it will be,” I admit. “Now I need some air. I’m going to the tree house.”