Page 28 of Asher's Answer
“Charlie.” She’s got her Mom voice down pat. It’s very Domme. I’m pretty sure it’s where I learned to sound like such a stern Daddy.
“Okay, so, here’s the thing…” I begin, hoping that I can calm her down so I can prepare Ash for the insanity that is my family. “Ash has been through a lot, and he’s a bit…anxious about meeting new people. I’d like to ease him into the concept of meeting you guys.”
“Ease him in?” Mom sounds insulted. “We’re not going to mob the poor boy.”
I remember exactly how she handled meeting my first boyfriend and I scoff. “You can come on a bit strong at first is all I’m saying.”
It takes a lot of convincing, but she eventually promises to wait until I’m ready to introduce them to the man I’ve fallen in love with. I just hope that she’ll keep that promise. You never know with my mom, and it’s best to be prepared for anything.
I’ll broach the subject with Ash soon, but for now I’m content having him to myself.
Chapter Thirteen – Asher
“Asher?” I freeze at the voice behind me. It’s not one I thought I’d hear again, and it’s not one I ever wanted to, either.
It’s a Saturday, but Charlie and Josh are both working, so I decided to go shopping, a plan to surprise Charlie by cooking him dinner for once formulating in my head. The last time I’d wanted to do this, my car broke down. Maybe these are all signs from the universe that cooking for my Daddy is not on the cards for me.
“Asher.” The voice is getting closer and it’s just as gruff and unhappy as the last time I heard it. “Don’t ignore me.”
The urge to slip into my little headspace to avoid the confrontation and stress is strong, but in this situation it’ll only make things worse. With a deep breath, I square my shoulders and turn to face the person whose voice I least want to hear.
“Dad.” I greet him. No hello. No fake smile. No indication that I have any actual interest in talking to him. But I don’t sound upset, either, which is something.
At least we’re in public. He won’t make a scene in public.
I hope.
He stops a few feet away from me, not the towering, fearsome figure from my memories any longer. He’s still taller than me, still imposing and larger than life, but he doesn’t inspire terror in me anymore. Maybe because he doesn’t have any power over me. He can’t threaten the roof over my head or my college degree any longer.
Dad looks me up and down with a sneer. “You landed on your feet, then?”
It shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t. But the implication that he was hoping that I wouldn’t recover eats away at me. What kind of parent wants their kid to suffer? What did he hope would happen to me when he kicked me out? Actually, no, I don’t want to know.
Folding my arms across my chest, I nod curtly. “I did.” I refuse to give him any information. He’s not going to learn about Charlie, or the friends I’ve made, or the job I’ve landed, or the plans I have to finish my degree after all.
“You disgust me.” Dad says, leaning in to deliver the assessment. He’s repeating some of the awful things he said the day he unknowingly set me free, and while the words hurt, I’m surprised that the voice in my head which once agreed with him is telling me he’s wrong. Leaning closer to me, he spits, “How can you stand there and look so proud of yourself? It’s bad enough you were a little fag, but the freaky shit is beyond the pale. They should lock you up for that pedophile crap.”
I feel myself blanch, but before I can refute him, I’m interrupted by a much more welcome voice.
“Ash,” a large, tattooed arm slings around my shoulders and I sag into Matt’s side. He’s come out of nowhere, but I’m beyond relieved to have the support. I turn my head and crane my neck. He’s looking down at me with concern and his phone is in his hand. “Is this guy giving you grief? Should I call Charlie?” He eyes my dad warily. “You know, your cop boyfriend?”
I’m guessing he was close enough to catch at least the tail end of my father’s vitriol. A part of me curls in on itself. The thought of Matt hearing my father talk to me that way is beyond embarrassing. I feel genuine shame coursing through my veins.
“Fuck off,” Dad hisses, not seeming to care that Matt’s built like a linebacker and could probably lay him out with one punch. He also seems to have ignored the implicit threat of my dating a cop. The asshole always did think he was above the law. “This is between me and my son.”
Matt’s arm tenses around my shoulders and I know the jigsaw puzzle that is me and my anxiety issues is all falling into place for him.
But it’s me that speaks, and I put this sudden burst of confidence down to my therapy and Charlie. “I stopped being your son when you kicked me out and left me homeless and alone.” It feels so good to get this closure. Like a weight is being lifted from my shoulders. The albatross around my neck removed. And, because I’m giddy and can’t help myself from stirring the pot, I lean forward conspiratorially and tell him, “But because you did that, I found my Daddy and I’ve never been happier. So, really, maybe I should thank you for that. You did me a solid.”
I offer him a sharp, shit-eating grin before I turn away, leaving him red-faced and sputtering, and Matt chortles at my side. “Holy shit, dude,” he gives me an excited little shake, even though I’m starting to tremble as the shock of what the fuck I just did sets in, “that was incredible!”
My answering smile feels tremulous, but I’m aware that I’ve just had some sort of breakthrough. I mean, I just told the bigot that booted me out of my house that I have a Daddy. I said it in public. With pride. And I meant everything I said.
“Charlie’s going to be so proud of you.”
Except Daddy’s also going to be worried. He’s going to hate that I goaded my father. That I wasn’t the bigger man, and that I didn’t just walk away. I still let Dad’s crap get under my skin and who knows what that’s going to do to my recovery from the trauma. Is it going to set me back? Are the nightmares -which have become few and far between- going to start back up again?
It’s too late to voice any of this, though, because Matt’s already typed out a text to Charlie. He’s probably concerned that I’ve gone a little catatonic beside him. And, though he’s a strong, capable man when he’s big, he still doesn’t have the daddy vibes I need to settle my burst of anxiety.
