Page 99 of Knot Playing Fair 2

“Who,” he said slowly, “Thefuckare you?”

A feminine gasp of outrage followed... and this was it. I was going to dissolve and sink straight through the floor into thebowels of the hospital, my personhood unraveling beneath the force of one too many shocks.

“How dare you speak to us like that!” my mother said shrilly. “Who areyou? Get your hands off my son!”

My body unhelpfully failed to dissipate into mist. Bowing to the inevitable, I straightened away from the bristling alpha.

“Mother. Father. I didn’t realize the hospital had contacted you.” My voice was wet and congested from tears.

“Who else were they going to contact!” my father nearly bellowed. “We’re your next of kin!”

“I’m all right,” I said, feeling exhaustion pull at me. “You don’t need to be here. I’m sorry you had to drive out.”

“These are your parents?” Emiel asked, sounding skeptical.

“Adoptive,” I said on a sigh.

Emiel eyed them. “They always this rude?”

This drew a fresh gasp from my mother. “You still haven’t said who you are! What are you doing in my son’s hospital room?”

My headache pounded in a way that was only peripherally related to having been hit with a pistol grip. “This is Emiel Hamilton, a good friend of mine. He and Mia are here to check on me after I was kidnapped.”

“Well, Mia certainly doesn’t seem to be here now!” my father sneered. “So... what? You and your ‘friend’ decided to cuddle up like a couple of queers? Did I raise a faggot after all, boy?”

Emiel was on his feet, and an unpleasant dipping sensation lurched in my stomach.

“You being his adopted parents don’t give you the right to talk to him like that.” The declaration was delivered in a low monotone, and something about Emiel’s unnatural stillness raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

A hint of floral omega perfume announced Mia’s return. “No,” she said, her voice steely. “It most certainly doesnot. Tom,Martha, I think you should visit Nat another time. He’s just had a harrowing experience; he’s injured and he needs rest.”

A leaden sense of inevitability crept over me, and something buried deep inside my brain sighed and saidfuck it.

“No,” I said. “You all deserve to know the truth, so you might as well hear it now. Yes, Father, you raised a queer son. I’m bisexual. I’m sorry. I know that must be a massive disappointment to you.”

My mother started wringing her hands, her face going pale. “Don’t be silly, Nat! You’re just confused. Mia has been putting ideas in your head, that’s all! With that sinful talk of lesbianism—”

“No, I knew it all along,” my father said, a look of deep disgust on his face. “I tried to beat it out of him, but it’s in the blood. He’s no son of mine.”

Emiel’s fists clenched. “And you’re obviously no father to him. Get the fuck out, both of you.”

“What a good idea,” Mia said, still in that stony tone. “I’ll just go see about getting hospital security up here to escort you.” Without another word, she pivoted and walked out the door.

“Well, I never!” my mother gasped. “I haveneverbeen spoken to in such a way!”

“Funny, that,” Emiel said. “Because I’m pretty sure your son has heard worse from you two in the last five minutes.”

I was still frozen in place, an odd shivery sensation shuddering along my nerves.

“Hmph! It’s clear we’re not wanted here,” my mother sniffed. “Tom, let’s go.”

My father shot me another look of pure disdain. “Maybe you’re right. Nothing here worth staying for, is there?”

And with that, they left—my mother peering up and down the hallway outside the room, as though on the lookout for approaching security guards.

Speaking of guards, Emiel stayed standing in front of my bed with his fists clenched until Mia returned a minute later.

“I saw them go as I was talking to the duty nurse,” she said. “I’ll make sure they’re struck from your visitor list. Nat... are you okay?”

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