Page 12 of Rico

“Yup—announced it to the whole damn bar.” Rico sighed. “At least it was almost empty at the time, and Jeremy cleared things up for anyone listening, but not until after Brian left.”

“Brian? That’s the kid’s name?

“Yeah.”

“Okay. So, I take it you haven’t told Evan about all that yet.”

“Nope.” He picked at the label on the beer bottle. “It’s not exactly dinner conversation or something to bring up before or after fucking each other’s brains out.”

“Jesus, Rico. You’re innocent. That was proven. You didn’t even go to trial. Explain what happened to Evan. He’ll understand.”

“You didn’t see that kid’s face, man. I don’t think there’s a thing I can say to make him believe I didn’t rape that girl.”

Scout jumped up, grabbed the beer bottle from Rico’s hand, slammed it onto the coffee table, and then got into Rico’s face. “You. Did. Not. Rape. That. Girl. You have the proof you didn’t. If that kid doesn’t believe you, then so what?”

“Don’t you see? If he doesn’t believe me, how can I have a relationship with his father, knowing that the kid will always look at me and think the worst?” Hot tears scalded his cheeks. He tried to erase his past, but it still kept coming back to haunt him.

“Then make him believe you. Get the fucking file and shove it into the kid’s face. Stop thinking you don’t deserve to be happy because of what happened, Rico. It wasn’t your fault. Stop blaming yourself.”

Taking a deep breath, Rico held a thick file in the crook of his arm and knocked on the door to Evan’s apartment with his free hand. It was two days since Scout tore him a new asshole for fucking things up, and Rico finally summoned the courage to try to fix what he broke. He picked up the phone several times to call Evan before convincing himself he needed to do it in person. Thankfully, Evan texted him his address last week when they were supposed to have dinner there.

He heard muffled voices behind the door, and then it swung open. When Brian spotted Rico standing there, his face reddened as he frowned. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Brian!” Evan’s voice came from farther inside the apartment. “Who’re you talking to like that?” There was a pause, and then Evan appeared behind his son, who had rage rolling off him in waves.

Evan’s brow furrowed. “Rico? What’re you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

“Um, okay.”

He went to brush by Brian and move out into the hall, but Rico stopped him and gestured toward the teen. “With Brian.”

Evan glanced back and forth between Brian and Rico, who were in a Mexican standoff—neither willing to back down. “What’s going on? You two have met before?”

Stepping forward, Rico forced the teenager to move back into the apartment. Evan stood there, confusion etched on his face as Rico closed the door. “Your son came to visit me at the bar the other day.”

“What? Why?”

Rico’s gaze stayed pinned to Brian’s angry one. “To tell me to leave you alone.”

“What? Why would you do that, Bri?”

As Rico expected, the kid exploded. “Because you deserve better than someone who’s a fucking rapist, Dad!”

Evan’s eyes grew wide as he stared at his son. “Wha?—”

“Evan, sit down.” Rico put a gentle hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Both of you, please, while I explain what’s going on.”

Still stunned, Evan nodded and grabbed Brian’s arm, turning him toward the living room. Once they sat on the couch, Rico glanced around. “Is Mark here? He should probably hear this too.”

Evan shook his head. “He’s at a study group tonight.”

Placing the folder on the coffee table, Rico took a seat on a recliner, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees. “Brian found out I was arrested when I was twenty years old. I was accused of raping a sixteen-year-old girl.” Two sets of eyes were on him—one filled with hostility, the other with shock. Swallowing hard, he continued. “I worked at a coffee shop—one of two jobs I was holding down to pay for college—and this teenage girl came in often. Sometimes with her friends and sometimes alone. It was a Tuesday. March twenty-ninth.” That day would forever be etched in his mind. “She came in after school and got the iced coffee she always ordered. It was raining out, and she had an umbrella and her book bag. Even after all these years, I can still see her so clearly in my mind. She used to flirt with me, not realizing I was gay. I got better tips if I flirted back with people, no matter their gender, so most of our customers didn’t know if I was gay or not.

“Anyway, after she left, it was the end of my shift. I was exhausted because I’d been up late studying for a test, so I went home. I was still living with my aunt and uncle at the time. Everyone was either at work or school, so no one could confirm Iwas there.” His gaze fell onto Brian. “I already told your dad that my folks were killed in a car accident when I was a sophomore in high school—my aunt and uncle took me in.”

The kid didn’t seem affected by that bit of information, so Rico shifted his gaze to Evan, who listened intently. “On her way home, the girl was attacked, raped, and left for dead in an alley not far from the coffee shop. She was in a coma for a few days, and when she woke up, she told the cops I was the one who did it. She even picked me out of a photo lineup.”

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