Page 19

chapter nineteen

As soon as I walked into the house, I was attacked. Dad’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, so I assumed that meant he was gone. He must have parked it down the street to give me a false sense of security. After dragging me to my bedroom, my father flung me on the floor, and Pastor Collins from West Clark Apostolic Chapel rose from his seat on my bed like a soul rising for the rapture.

It went on and on, Dad screaming at me and calling me names, Pastor Collins telling me he was going to save me, the way he was unable to save his brother.

I defied them.

I stood my ground and told my father the only demon in our home was him, and then he lunged. The next thing I knew, I woke to the worried face of the man I love. The fear in his eyes was palpable, but my God, his relief was instantaneous. As soon as I called out, “Daddy,” it was like all his worries washed away, like being baptized in my gaze.

My father is dead, though, no great loss there. My mother is inconsolable, and I don’t have it in me to console her. I know she had it rough. I know she’s a victim, same as me, but I also know she’s never once stood up for me. She’s never told my father to stop or shielded me from his wrath. Not even when I was little.

Miles did, though. Miles has shielded me as much as he can, all my life, even to his own detriment. And now I get to repay him by spending the rest of my life at his side.

Daddy has his phone on speaker, and when Meadows answers, I’m assuming he’s going to beg for help. Instead, Miles’ eyebrows scrunch together, and he clenches his jaw.

“Brother Meadows,” Daddy says in a venomous voice I’ve never heard before.

Meadows chuckles which just seems to piss Miles off even more. “What’s up, bro?”

“I am not your bro,” Miles snaps. “I am your pastor.”

“Nah, man. You’re just the means to an end.”

“What does that even mean?” Miles asks, giving me a confused look.

“Apparently there’s a hit on someone in our church,” I interject. “Someone’s supposed to die soon.”

“Someone just did,” he reminds me.

“What?” Meadows asks, his voice a bit more serious now. “Who died?”

“Oh, no you don’t,” I bark at him. “You outed my boyfriend in front of the entire church. You don’t get to play the doting boss now. You’re lucky I didn’t kidnap Pet just to get back at you.”

“No one touches Pet. Ever. Say it.”

I roll my eyes. “Why did you do it? What did Miles ever do to—”

“Dare,” Miles interrupts. “Baby, now isn’t the time for a villainous monologue. We’ve already got a villain we need to dispose of, this blood feud with Meadows is going to have to wait.” He clears his throat, his jaw tensing. “To be clear, though, Brother Meadows; you and I are going to tango.”

“Oh, Jesus,” I groan. “Daddy, he’s a killer. It’s probably not the best idea to threaten to beat him up.”

“I’m a surgeon and businessman,” Meadows corrects. “I don’t do the killing. I mean, I have, but that was just for fun.” Meadows pauses for a beat. “I don’t tango. I fucking foxtrot.” In the background, Pet moans against his ball gag. “That’s it, baby. Stroke it for me. Stroke it hard.”

“Oh, for the love of the Lord,” I sigh, flinging my hands in the air. “Meadows, my father is dead. I need your help cleaning it up.”

“Hold on. Just—just give me a second to—Fuck, yeah!” As he ejaculates—I’m assuming—his breathing quickens, and Pet moans even louder this time as Meadows repeatedly tells him what a good boy he is. Once it’s done, Meadows sighs contentedly. “So, your father is dead?”

“I just said he was, didn’t I?”

He snickers. “God, I love that sassy mouth of yours. Alright. I’m pissed at your boyfriend right now, and we’ll be discussing it later, but it seems luck is in your favor. Two of my best agents just got into town. I’ll send them over to help you with the body.”

“Bodies,” Mal says.

“Who the fuck is that?” Meadows barks. I probably should have told him she was on the line. I know he doesn’t like surprises.

“I’m Mallory fucking Brooks. Who the fuck are you?”

Jesus. Okay, well, apparently we’ve got Bonnie Badass on our side today.

“What do you mean bodies ?” Miles asks.

“I pushed him,” my mom says, surprising us all. “That man. He was trying to hurt Darren.” Her voice is a whisper, and it seems to be filled with shame. She peeks up through her lashes, and she’s giving me a look I’ve never seen before. It’s apologetic and slightly sweet. If she would have given me any similar looks growing up, maybe it might make me feel for her. Right now, all I feel is twenty-plus years of pent-up anger. “I pushed him down the stairs.”

“His skull is cracked wide open,” Mal says. “The entire foyer is coated in blood. I think he hit the back of his head on the wall when he landed.”

“Too bad, so sad,” someone says in the background, and as soon as I hear it, a smile spreads across my face.

“Listen,” Meadows begins, but the sound of someone choking in the background distracts him. “Ah, hell. Pet, I already told you, if you want to eat my load after you jack me off, you need to tell me, and I’ll take out your gag. For fuck’s sake, you choke on my cum every single time. Bad boy.”

A few moments later, for the first time, I hear Pet’s voice. “I’m sorry, sir,” he says, his voice breaking from disuse. “I just wanted a taste.” He sniffles. “Please don’t be mad, Daddy.”

“Ah, fuck. Baby, don’t cry. You know what the fuck that does to me.” He sighs. “Matthews, I’m sending over two of our best to help. Then you and I are having a long, hard conversation when you get here.” Before I can respond, the call ends, and my insides spin with worry. Is he going to kill me? Is he firing me? He better fuck not. I’ll key his goddamn car if he tries. Well, not if he kills me. But I’ll haunt the motherfucker endlessly.

Everyone is looking at me like I’ve got all the answers, but I’m still reeling from having my father attempt to kill me, so I crawl into Daddy’s lap and hold him close.

“I don’t like this,” Mom says, and when I look up, she’s pointing at the pair of us. “I always knew Darren felt like he has . . .” She swallows. “Feelings for you, but I didn’t think you did too.”

“I didn’t,” Miles quickly says. “Not until he came home.” He cups my cheek, not taking his eyes off me. “I won’t apologize for falling in love with him, though. Not to you. Not even to God.” His forehead touches mine, and Jesus, it feels like he’s carved out our own little piece of heaven, right here on my bedroom floor, beside my dead dad’s body. “But I guess you’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” I don’t miss the way his cheeks darken. I know he still struggles with the fact I’ve known him all my life, but I don’t care. It’s not as if he’s groomed me for God’s sake. That’s been my job since coming home. Guiding him toward our shared goal, even if he didn’t remember that goal once his sleeping pills wore off.

“From the first time I saw you,” I admit.

Mom just sighs and holds her hands over her head in prayer, letting go and lifting it up to the Lord.

Ten minutes later, the front door opens and a triggered twink shrieks, “Oh, sweet, merciful Rinna, there are bits of brain everywhere!”

Footsteps thud against the stairs, and down the hall as they come closer. When he enters my bedroom, I have to do a double-take. Dressed in hot-pink hazmat suits that have been cut off at the upper thigh to show as much skin as possible, stand my sassy sidekick Tatum, and his equally ridiculous friend, Scotty. God. I detest Scotty Levinson.

Scotty flings his hands in the air for no reason other than causing a commotion. “The OG’s have arrived, darling, and we’ve come to steal the show.”

Tatum sighs. “I’d say he’s not always like this, but that would be a lie. He’s an exhausting friend, but he’s super thoughtful sometimes.” He smiles widely at me and waves. “Hi, Dare!”

I chuckle, waving back at him. “Hey, Tatum.”

His smile slips as he kneels beside me, offering me a hug. Miles growls, but we just ignore him. Tatum and Scotty’s Murder Daddies are both super possessive, too, so we’re all used to ridiculous acts of dominance.

“I’m really sorry about your dad,” Tatum says, hugging me just a little bit tighter before standing and making his way back to Scotty.

I wish Tatum would move home. He was a really good friend when we were younger, and I don’t have a whole lot of gay friends anymore. Tatum and Scotty live in Washington now, but a few months ago, after coming down to celebrate their father’s commitment ceremony to his two boyfriends, Tatum brought Scotty to Manhole. Scotty commandeered the dance floor, flailing his arms like speedboat propellers, nearly knocking out an elderly man who must have been at least thirty years of age. Scotty could have broken the man’s fucking neck if he knocked him over, but did the delulu-for-Daddy twink take that into consideration? Fuck no. He just scowled at the man as he rushed away for his own safety. Then Scotty spent twenty minutes ranting into empty space around him about no one wanting to dance with him because his father was a homophobe. In the end, I called him trash and told him the reason no one dances with him is because he’s a selfish, stubborn psychopath who dances like a madman.

Scotty is eyeing my father’s watch with big, wide eyes. He kneels in front of him and pokes his lifeless shoulder. “Excuse me, Mr. Ugly-face, you’ve got a really pretty watch.” When my deceased father doesn’t answer, Scotty scowls. “Rude, much, Rudy Rudiani?”

Tatum just covers his eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry, Darren. I asked Meadows to let me come alone. Scotty stowed himself away when I wasn’t looking.” He turns and glares at Scotty. “You popped out of the back seat floorboard and almost killed us. It was terrifying.”

Scotty nods proudly. “We almost drove off a cliff. It was glorious.”

“We almost drove into a shallow ditch,” Tatum corrects. “And yeah, it was kind of exhilarating.” He knocks his shoulder against Scotty’s, and Scotty gives him a nudge back. Tatum thumps Scotty’s nose. “I should have left you in Washington. You irritate every inch of me.” He’s only teasing, but it doesn’t stop Scotty from popping off at the mouth.

“All three inches?” he asks, feigning shock. “I am truly, truly sorry.”

“It’s five and a half,” Tatum growls.

“It’s three-point-seven-five at best. I’ve seen you ejaculate more times than I’ve seen myself.” Scotty turns and smiles at us. “He’s into public play, you see.” Yeah. I figured that out when, after Scotty assaulted the elderly man on the dance floor at Manhole, when Tatum pulled out his cock and furiously stroked it for all to see. If I wasn’t so head over heels for Daddy, I probably would have fallen to my knees and allowed him to shoot in my mouth. I do love a good cum bath.

Tatum groans. “Point being, I should have left you at the agency.”

“Nuh-uh,” Scotty argues. “If I hadn’t come, your little trash bag outfit would still be big and floppy and hideous.” Scotty takes a step back, eyeing Tatum up and down proudly. The hot pink hazmat suits look more like rompers after their alterations. He’s even cut a plunging neckline into both suits. Scotty’s goes halfway down his chest, but Tatum’s goes all the way down to the base of his cock. Thankfully, he’s wearing what appears to be a jockstrap underneath.

Who makes stripper attire out of a hazmat suit? And where do I get mine?

Scotty nods. “It’s serial-killer chic.” Kneeling, Scotty pokes my dad in the cheek. Once he confirms there’s no life left in him, he grins widely and claws at my father’s wrist, prying his watch off forcefully. “I’ll be taking this as my commission.”

“For Rinna’s sake,” Tatum groans. “Control yourself.”

“You’re just jealous you didn’t see it first. Oh, well, Tater Tot. Finders keepers, losers weepers. Too bad, so sad, hope it makes you super mad.”

“I want one of those jumpsuits,” I add for no reason in particular, pointing at Scotty’s clothes.

“I wouldn’t mind one, either,” Mal adds, and I’m pretty sure Miles’ jaw just hit the floor.

Scotty shakes his head. “I don’t know how to cut the fabric enough to ensure your breasts aren’t fully exposed. I’m so sorry.” The weird thing is, he sounds like he really is. Like this is some massive moral failing on his part, and he’s been rocked with shame. It’s absolutely ridiculous.

“My bra will cover everything. I’m serious. I love that shade, and the overall look is kind of adorable.”

Scotty shakes his head. “You have a very large, perky bosom. You shouldn’t be hiding them away. You should take pride in them. Show them off to strangers on the street.”

Mal snorts. “It might find me a rebound from this guy,” she says, pointing at Miles.

“Oh, you’re on the prowl? How fun! Tatum can probably help. You need someone who will worship you and your voluptuous bosom.” Scotty takes a step back, even though he’s nowhere near Mal, and points at her chest. “A word advice from a dating expert—”

“You literally crushed Brody’s balls with your hand until he agreed to marry you.”

Scotty flips him off with his ring finger, even though he’s not wearing a ring. “Yeah, well, I’m married now, aren’t I?” Sighing, he turns his attention back to Mal and points at her breasts again. “Those are large, in charge, and the only support they need are the hands of an experienced lover. Too bad for you, I don’t know any heterosexual men, but the fact remains. I would suggest you start by throwing away all your bras.”

She snickers and turns to Tatum. “Okay. Self-absorbed or not, I kind of get it. He’s annoying as hell, but he’s kind of adorable.” I can’t remember a time before when Mal ever called anything or anyone adorable, but sincerity radiates out of her as she looks over at Scotty again. “Besides, who says I’m looking for a man?” She points again at Miles. “After this one, I’m ready to swear off men altogether.”

Scotty’s eyes light up with joy. “Are you at all interested in polyamory? Because I know two bisexual women back home who are looking to turn their new home into a harem of sorts, but one where everyone fucks everyone equally. I think. Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m supposed to even call it a harem. Is that offensive? I know there’s a book genre called Reverse Harem, but I don’t know if the term is only acceptable in the form of literature.” He sighs. “Well, if my life were a book, I’d be home free. Sucks for me. Sigh.”

“Did you just say the word sigh?” I ask, my irritation rising.

“I did, and I’ll do it again. Do you have a problem with that? Because I’ll call Daddy and have him kill you dead.” Scotty looks down at the dead body on the floor and winces, his cheeks flushing. “Sorry. I forgot your dad just got his brains bashed in. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Enough! I’ve had enough of this,” Miles snaps. “There’s a dead body on the floor, and no one has told us what the hell is going on. Why are you both here? Why are you in such ridiculous outfits?”

“We’re here to clean up your mess,” Tatum says matter-of-factly, pulling a pair of rubber gloves from his jockstrap and snapping them on. He must have just snapped them too hard against his wrist, because his eyes well with tears, and his jaw’s trembling like he’s about to cry. He pushes past the pain, walking into the hallway and returning with a duffle bag. Unzipping the bag, he pulls out a massive roll of plastic tarp and unfolds it across the floor. “I’m not very strong, so I’m going to need a little help.” He points at Miles, then twirls his hand around and crooks his finger, motioning me to join him. “You break it, you bag it, and I’m pretty sure you broke his skull wide open. Meadows is already firing up the incinerator at the agency. We just need to get the bodies there without getting pulled over by the police.”

“I’m pretty sure you just jinxed us,” Scotty says. “Rude.”

Once it’s done, it takes Miles, Tatum, and me to haul the body downstairs. Once we carry him to the garage, we return to the foyer and begin work on the Pastor Collins. Sure enough, there are bits of his brain matter littering the floor.

As Tatum and I unroll the tarp, Miles kneels beside the deceased pastor and places his hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers before looking up for me. I think reality is finally hitting him, because his eyes are a little wet. “I killed two men today.”

I shake my head. “Mom killed him. I’m pretty sure she shoved him down the stairs. You were just protecting me with Dad. Baby, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Guilt still masks his face, but he gives me a nod anyway. He reaches into the man’s back pocket and pulls out his wallet.

“Oh, good Lord,” I groan. “I just absolved you of the sin of murder, and now you’re robbing a corpse?”

Miles snorts a soft laugh and opens the wallet. “Pastor Trevor Collins.” He turns to me. “They’re going to cremate him too?”

I nod. “Probably.”

“What about his family? Will Meadows tell them? Are they just going to think he abandoned them?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure how Meadows usually handles workplace casualties. I guess there’s no better time to find out.” I lean down and kiss his forehead. “Roll him up, and we’ll take over. I need you to back your truck up to the garage so we can load them up.”

He takes my hand, and I help him up. Chest to chest, he smiles down at me and cups my cheek. “I love you.”

My heart flutters, because I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing those words coming from him. “I love you too.”