Page 21 of No Rhyme or Riesling

John stopped a few feet outside the door, looking around, trying to figure out where to go. In that brief delay, Adam went pliant in his hands. The boy stopped struggling and leaned back against him.

“I love it when you go all caveman on me,” Adam moaned. “Are you gonna fuck me now? You should totally fuck me.” He tried to pull his hands free of John's grip, then settled for simply stretching out his fingers, reaching back towards John's groin.

“Christ,” John snapped, putting some space between them without breaking his hold. “Are you always like this when you're drunk?”

“Notdrunk,” Adam scoffed, then stumbled and laughed as he tried to take a step away. After John steadied him, Adam tried to step back again, squirming in John's hold. “I want your dick!” the boy snapped. “Why won't you let me touch you?”

John felt heat flush his cheeks all over again, hoping nobody inside had heard that outburst. “Alright, that's enough.” Hetightened his hold on Adam's wrists and neck and propelled him forward, searching for a way around the side of the house.

He managed to maneuver them between some bushes, and the parking lot came into view. John aimed straight for his truck, letting go of Adam's neck so he could pull his keys out of his pocket.

Adam gasped. “Are you gonna fuck me in your truck? We haven't done that yet!”

“No. I'm taking you home.” John wrenched the passenger side door open, then shoved Adam into the seat.

“But I don't wanna go home yet! You won't fuck me at home. And I wanna sing! And did you hear? I get to sing at Morgan's wedding!” Adam added as he tried to get back out of the truck.

“I'm pretty sure you already ruined that opportunity,” John muttered to himself as he pushed Adam back into the seat.Christ. He'd barely glanced at Everett's face during Adam's initial outburst, but it had been enough to make him burn with shame. The man had looked so disappointed. “Fuck, Adam, you just humiliated me in front of my boss. Humiliated yourself in front of all your friends. I don't–” John threw his hands up and took a step back. “Fuck.”

Adam stared at him, utterly still and silent for a full, pregnant second before he suddenly burst into tears.

John closed his eyes and sighed, but didn't waste the opportunity handed to him. While Adam was busy crying rather than fighting him, John yanked off his belt and looped it around Adam's wrists, not trusting the boy to hold still on the drive home. John buckled Adam into the seat, slammed the door shut, stormed around to the driver's side, and got in.

He fired up the truck, quickly checking his mirrors before he backed out of the parking spot and headed down the long driveway. John couldn't even take solace in the view of the zinfandel grapevines that stretched off to either side, making thehills look carpeted in green. All he could think about was getting out of there.

Halfway to town, Adam stopped crying, turning silent and sullen instead. When they reached Adam's apartment, the boy didn't even seem to notice they'd arrived. John got out of the truck, opened Adam's door, and freed the boy before reaching into the back seat for Adam's things.

“Where are your keys?” John asked.

Adam scowled and didn't respond.

John patted the boy's pockets and found the keys there. He marched Adam up to the door, let them in, then took off his shoes and headed straight for the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. “We need to sober you up,” he said over his shoulder as he went.

Once he set the pot brewing, John turned around to check on Adam, but the boy wasn't there. John looked immediately for Adam's car keys, heaving a sigh of relief when he found them still hanging on the peg by the door, right where he'd left them.

A sob sounded from the direction of Adam's bedroom. John headed that way and hesitantly peeked into the room, his gaze going immediately to the far nightstand.

Except the urn wasn't there. And there was no sign of Adam.

John heard another sob.Shit. He walked around the bed and found Adam wedged into the corner between the wall and the nightstand, his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around the urn.

“I'm so sorry,” Adam cried, rocking himself, his forehead resting on the urn. “I'm so sorry.”

John carefully approached and crouched down in front of him. “Adam?”

“I'm so sorry,” Adam choked out again.

John's heart clenched, hearing the pain in his boy's voice.Shit. “Baby?” he murmured. “Talk to me. What's going on?”

Adam cried silently for a moment before he said, “It's all my fault.”

John rested a hand on Adam's knee. “You did get out of control,” he agreed. “But if you apologize to your friends–”

“No!” Adam screamed, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping onto the urn. “It's my fault he's dead!”

John blinked. “What?”

Adam let out a wail of pure agony. “It's my fault he's dead,” he choked out between sobs. “I wanted him to get the surgery. I was tired of hearing him whine about his shoulder pain. And I wanted to get my top surgery as soon as I turned eighteen, but I knew it would have to wait until he got his shoulder surgery first, so I snapped at him. I told him to hurry up and get it done already.” Adam squeezed his eyes shut as fresh tears fell. “And then he died, and it's all my fault!”

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