Page 176 of Captivated

Nate gave him a grateful smile.

“Got it.” Steve read aloud. “I don’t think our current law prevents exploration of people’s identity, what they think or don’t think about their sexuality or their gender. I do think it prevents a therapy that says I can make you straight.” He gazed at Nate. “Sounds like a man with his head screwed on right.”

Nate swallowed. “Amen to that.”

Steve nodded, his face tight. “There are only twenty states in the U.S. that ban CT for minors. Five hundred people have submitted testimony, and so far, the bill has three hundred supporters, with about one hundred seventy-five opposed. The committee will vote this week to move the bill forward.”

“Wait a sec.” Butch stared at Steven, his eyes wide. “You’re tellin’ me there are people whodon’twant this bill to pass? Whothe fuck would do that? Don’t they know about the kinda things that go on in this so-called therapy? Hell, evenIknow, an’ I ain’t no lawmaker.”

“Unfortunately, they exist. There’s one guy who’s running for office. He’s always spouting crap about it, saying he keeps hearing from frustrated parents of children who are affected by the ban on CT. What did he say?” Steve scrolled again. “Yeah, here it is.” He peered at his phone. “It would make the situation worse by depriving vulnerable adults as well as minors of comprehensive treatment for underlying issues such as sexual trauma.” Steve shook his head. “I tell you, that man is on a mission. Every chance he gets, he’s in the news or on social media, talking about how misunderstood CT is. How it gets a bad rap. How it’s helped so many. Blah blah blah. I mean, listen to this.” He read aloud, “Conversion therapy saved my son’s life. It gave him back to God, and to me. I will always fight for the right of parents to do what’s best for their children.”

“What a prick,” Walt muttered.

Steve’s face darkened. “You said it. Well, when it comes to election time, I can guarantee Caleb Streeting won’t be gettingmyvote.”

Zeeb froze.Iknow that name. Then it came to him.

Oh my fucking God.

“No,” Nate whispered. He stood up, his face pale, his chair scraping violently against the wooden floor. His coffee cup dropped to the boards with a sharp crack.

Sol rose. “Nate, are you all right?”

Nate swallowed. “Steve, is there a photo of this guy?”

Steve scrolled. “Yeah. Here it is, the time-honored family photo. The would-be senator with his wife and three kids.” He turned his phone toward Nate.

Zeeb stared at the image. “Isit? Is it him?”

Nate’s voice was hollow.

“Yeah, that’s him. That’s my dad.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

“Nate, for God’s sake, breathe.”That was Sol.

Nate’s chair lay sideways on the floor, his coffee seeping into the cracks of the wooden boards. But none of it mattered.

None of thisfuckingmattered because of that photo.

“He replaced me.” Nate’s voice was shredded, unrecognizable to his own ears. “Hereplacedme.” He stumbled backward, hitting the countertop behind him.

Sol and Zeeb were on their feet, moving toward him, but everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Nate couldn’t tear his gaze away from Steve’s phone.

Look at them.Happy family.Perfect teeth, perfect smiles. All of them standing in front of some fucking church in Oregon he didn’t recognize. His parents, his two sisters, adults now…

And a man Nate didn’t know from Adam.

“I gotcha.” Zeeb’s strong arm was around him, his voice low.

Sol picked Nate’s chair up and righted it. “Sit down, please.”

“Who is he? Who the fuck is he?” Nate fumbled in the pocket of his jeans for his phone, opened a search engine, and typed his dad’s name, his fingers trembling.

“Don’t do this, not now.”

Nate barely registered the beseeching undercurrent in Zeeb’s voice.