Page 77 of Captivated

Zeeb’s chest swelled. “Good to know.”

Nate’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You think you could bring me a glass of water?”

Zeeb stood. “I’ll bring two. My throat’s pretty parched.” He gazed at the remains of their supper. “I don’t think either of us did that justice.” He went into the cabin, filled two glasses, and returned to the porch. After handing one to Nate, Zeeb resumed his seat. He took a long drink, but even after that his mouth was dry as a bone.

Nate sat up, his elbows on his knees. “I guess I should start at the beginning.”

“Which is when?”

“Growing up.” Nate shivered. “Where this story really starts is with my dad.”

“Was he anything like mine?”

“Based on what you told me, I think you came off better than I did.” He paused. “I’d always known my family was pretty strict when it came to religion. And Dad was the kind of person who demanded obedience and conformity.”

Zeeb’s gut twisted. “You’ve only just started, and already I know I’m not gonna like the ending.”

“When I was little, I was always more interested in drawing and painting than the kind of pursuits Dad wanted to impose on me.” He took a mouthful of water. “I guess I was a gentle little boy, and Dad saw that as a sign of weakness. And he took his frustration out on me.”

“Emotionally or….” Zeeb’s heartbeat quickened.Please, tell me he didn’t hurt you.

“Yes, but physically too, especially when I didn’t meet his expectations of how a boy should be.”

Zeeb clenched his hands into fists. “And where was your mom while all this was goin’ on?”

Nate’s face tightened. “She… she kept her distance. I don’t know if that was out of fear or because she was like him. Either way, my home should’ve been my sanctuary, and it was anything but that.” Another drink. “But the shit really hit the fan when I was nine years old.”

“What happened?”

“I hung out a lot with Bethany, our neighbor’s little girl, about the same age as me. They had a farm, and I used to play there a lot.” He swallowed. “Until the day my dad came to see where I was, and found me playing dress-up—in girl clothes. Bethany had a trunk full of stuff she liked to put on.” He expelled a breath. “You know, I can’t even remember what game we were playing that day, who we were pretending to be. It’s as ifthe whole episode has been wiped from my mind.” He shivered again. “It was innocent fun, but that wasn’t how Dad saw it. He said I wasstraying from the path. A day or so later, Dad took me on a trip.”

“To a conversion therapy camp?”

Nate gaped at him. “How did you?—”

“Sol put two and two together,” Zeeb told him.

Nate said nothing for a moment. “Smart man. It was a nightmarish place—and it still shows up in my nightmares—where they subjected me to intense psychological abuse, intended to ‘cure’ me of what they called my ‘deviant tendencies’,” he air-quoted.

Zeeb’s chest tightened. “How long were you there?”

Nate’s eyes were full of misery. “Six years.”

Holy fuck.

“Surely they let you go home now and then?”

“I went home a couple of times. They sent me back.” Nate took a deep breath. “I’ve done a lot of research on such places the last few years. Typically, conversion therapy camps aimed at changing sexual orientation or gender identity don’t come withbreaksor periodic returns home, especially if they’re extreme in nature.”

“And yours was?”

Nate made no attempt to respond.

Zeeb’s rage went from simmering to boiling. “I repeat—where was your mom while all this was goin’ on? She just left you there?”

“Apparently her belief I needed therapy was just as strong as my dad’s. I think that last visit home was down to her, though. When it became obvious my dad felt I hadn’t made enough progress for his liking, or maybe my behavior didn’t meet with his approval, he sent me back and she didn’t raise a finger to stophim.” Nate’s face contorted. “All of which reinforced the notion that I was broken and in need of fixing.”

Zeeb wanted to pound someone into the ground. Several someones, starting with Nate’s parents. “So eventually theyfixedyou and sent you home?”

---