Page 56 of Slay the Gay Away, Daddy

“Actually, I was hoping you could pop your cover in the back. I’ve been behind you for a few miles, and the lid keeps popping up and down. At first, I thought it just wasn’t latched properly, but I think I saw somebody looking out at me from the darkness. It was creepy as all get-out. I just want to take a look and make sure you ain’t got a stowaway on board.”

Miles looks at me, his eyes flooded with panic. “Did you hear that, Dare? Brother Sparks thinks someone might have snuck in the truck bed. Isn’t that ridiculous?” His gaze is pleading with me, because my poor pastor hasn’t flat-out lied to anyone in his whole life. Well, he lied about his sexual orientation, but that was mostly just a lie by omission.

I lean forward and wave at Brother Sparks. “Good morning, sir. It’s a beautiful day the Lord has made, am I right?”

Brother Sparks is probably the only congregant who isn’t constantly shooting me dirty looks during church, and I think part of that is down to the fact that Andy Sparks is a little fruity, just like me. He joined the church a few years ago, and he’s neverhad a woman at his side. It’s surprising to me, because he’s a goddamn snack if I’ve ever seen one. Olive skin. Dark black hair. He’s got these lashes that go on for days like he’s used half a tube of mascara on them. And those lips. Jesus. Purple and pillowy, like I could rest against them and take a nap.

“You don’t have to get out of the truck, Pastor,” he says with a smile. “Just pop the cover from inside and I’ll check it out.” He turns to walk away, but Miles throws open the door and practically leaps from the cabin.

“Wait! Andy, you can’t!”

Ah, hell. Here we go.

Figuring this might be my last moment as a free man, I choose to spend it with the man I love. I hop out of the truck and head toward the back, taking my place at Miles’ side.

“Andy, please,” Miles shouts. “There’s nothing you need to see in there.” There’s no denying it; Miles is panicking. I see it. Brother Sparks sees it. Hell, it’s so obvious even my dad’s corpse could probably see it.

“Have you had anything to drink today, Pastor?” For some ungodly reason, Brother Sparks unholsters his gun and grips the handle before looking at me. “Are you okay, Darren? You seem a little nervous.” He keeps darting his eyes back and forth between me and Miles, and each time our eyes meet, he looks concerned for me. “Has he kidnapped you, Darren?”

Miles’ jaw hits the floor. “Excuse me?”

“It’s okay, buddy,” he tells me, ignoring Miles. “Just . . . just come over here. Stand behind me, baby.”

Baby?

Fucking baby?

Miles growls.

“For God’s sake,” I groan. “We’re fine, Brother Sparks. I’m fine.”

The officer’s jaw tenses as he jerks his head in Miles’ direction. “Then why don’t you want me looking in here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, son. Now, if you’ll excuse us—”

“Open the trunk.”

Miles pauses, sighing in resignation. I’ve never seen him look so defeated. He shares a mournful look with me, mouthing that he’s sorry.

Brother Sparks lifts his gun and aims it at the truck before shouting, “I said, open the trunk.”

“Technically,” I say, lifting a finger in the air like I’m Einstein or something. “It’s a truck bed, but—”

Whatever I plan on saying flies out the metaphorical window when Brother Sparks turns toward Miles and shouts, “Stop resisting!” like a goddamn lunatic.

“No. That’s enough of that.” I extend my arm, presenting him the bed of the truck. Fuck it. We’ve already had two deaths today, maybe we’ll make it three. “By all means.”

Miles sighs as he steps forward and lifts the lid. His eyes are closed like he thinks if he doesn’t look at the dead body, none of this is real. Luckily, it seems God must agree, because Scotty and Tatum have come through in spectacular fashion. Well, spectacular may not be the right word. Sordid? Perhaps. Absolute unhinged? You betcha. Spectacular? Not so much.

There, lying on an unrolled blue tarp, Scotty is knelt over my deceased father’s face, shielding it from view. His hips are rolling like he’s fucking Dad’s mouth through his cutoff hazmat suit. Looking over his shoulder, he glares at Brother Sparks.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to get my freak on, you nosy bastard.”

Brother Sparks gapes at him, and I’m pretty sure I can hear his racing heart from here. I can certainly see the tent in his pants from here. Beside Scotty, Tatum’s lying back, Facetiming hishusband as he strokes his cock. At the back of the truck, Pastor Collins’ body rests sideways, covered with an old black tarp that was already in Miles’ truck. It looks like a line of firewood that’s been covered up for unknown reasons.

Tatum licks his lip as he stares at his phone. “My hole is so empty, Daddy. Need you to fill it up.”

“Little one,” his husband breathes through the phone. “Come for me.” A few seconds later, Tatum explodes, shooting quite possibly the largest load I’ve ever seen.

---