Page 76 of Don't Puck Up

Locke coughed out his surprise and shook his head while trying to hide his small proud smile. He leaned back against the bed next to where Chris was lying but didn’t touch him. I watched as Chris took him by the wrist and deposited Locke’s hand onto his head. Locke flushed and moved his hand down to Chris’s nape, playing with his loose hair and massaging his neck.

“I’m sorry I stopped you from going outside, Kamirah,” Dad said, then slid his hand over the rounded top of his cane, focusing his attention on it. He wiped off an imaginary mark and sighed softly.

“Why did you stop me, Dad?” I asked quietly.

He hooked his cane over the back of the chair, rubbed his forehead, then gave us his attention. In that moment, he looked like he’d aged a decade, exhaustion riding him hard.

“When they walked outside with you, Chris, I was convinced they’d just have a word with you. I expected shock, maybe even the yelling. But then Peter hit you, and I couldn’t comprehend that he was the same person we’d eaten Sunday lunch with countless times over the years. Then your brothers started on you, and I was frozen in place. It didn’t make sense, but on some level, it did.”

Dad rubbed his eyes and slumped in the chair, agony written all over his features. “If I had moved quicker, if I hadn’t stopped Kamirah, maybe the outcome would have been different. But I was scared.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. I felt sick at the guilt he was carrying.

“Chris, your mom was always the most devout of us. But in my opinion, she’s always looked at religion incorrectly. She believes that being a part of one means excluding nonbelievers. She never looked at the bible as a set of stories that could guide believers to act to help others, including nonbelievers, in the way Jesus intended us to. She considers religion a roadmap to heaven, and if you don’t tick all the boxes, you won’t get in. She doesn’t believe that living a kind, generous life like Christ wanted us to do is enough.”

I understood exactly what he meant. I’d seen it firsthand yesterday. Chris had often said she weaponized her religion, but I hadn’t fully understood what he meant until I heard her speak her vitriol yesterday.

Dadsighed and added, “Although your father likes to act as if he’s the boss, he takes his cues from your mother. Your brothers follow their father blindly. They’re nothing more than thugs. They do what they think makes them appear powerful.”

“They’re fucking criminals,” I muttered.

Dad nodded. “Kam, I honestly thought they’d kill you if you stepped between them and Chris.” He turned to Chris and added, “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them, and I’m sorry I chose Kamirah’s well-being over yours, but I knew you could take what they were doing.”

“I’m glad you did, because if Kam were hurt….”

“I could have stopped them,” I grumbled.

“I don’t think any of us could have. Well, except Chris if he’d defended himself, or perhaps Mr. Ledger here, if those stunts and that uniform is real.”

Locke’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and I brushed my thumb over them, my hand lingering there. I couldn’t get enough of being able to openly touch him. Today was the first time I’d looked at him and known he was the one we’d fallen for, and I wanted to savor it.

Dad cleared his throat, and it snapped me out of my daze.

He assured us, “The police are doing their job. They took my report and Bella’s and William’s too. They both asked me to drive them to the station so they could give it there.” He smiled sadly and added, “Those kids may be young, but they knew what they were witnessing was wrong. They were all devastated by what they saw. Little Gracie hid behind her brother when her dad went looking for her.”

Gracie was James and Kate’s youngest. She was a grinning bundle of a terrible two-year old. She and her brother were like oil and water, her brother patient but not usually overly affectionate with her. She was very much a daddy’s girl—her father doted on her like she was a princess—but her turning to Junior was telling. It would have broken her father’s heart for her to be scared of him. Good. Served the bastard right. I just hated that Gracie was going to suffer for his behavior.

“None of the kids are talking to your mother, Chris."

"What about Mom?" I asked.

Dad shook his head. "I’m at a loss. I don't understand her reaction. She's standing with Mary and Peter."

I huffed my disgust and muttered, "Wait until she hears I'm bisexual too." I froze and my gaze shot to Dad’s. I swallowed.

Dad reached for my hand and took it in both of his. “My god taught me to love everyone. It's not my job to judge you. My god taught me to live as Jesus would—by extending his hand in peace and love. Regardless of what my religion has taught me, you are my daughter, and Chris is my son. I will never love you any differently no matter who you love.” He paused for a moment, and my vision blurred. Locke laid his hand on the small of my back, and I sucked in a shuddery breath.

Dad eyed Locke’s hands on Chris and me and added, “Is this the young man you came out for, Chris?” He nodded, and Dad continued, “Then the same goes for you, Locke.”

I bent down and hugged Dad tight. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I’m sorry for hitting you.”

He chuckled and patted my shoulder. “I want to shake the hand of whoever taught you that move.”

I gestured to Locke with a thumb over my shoulder. “Our boyfriend did.”

I smiled at him, and he grinned happily, then interlaced our fingers. “Boyfriend, huh?”

“You’d better believe it,” Chris replied and took his other hand.

Locke choked out a laugh and bit his lip.