Page 56 of The Long Way
Chapter 14
“You sure you don’t want any more?” Damon asked, eyeing the sandwich in front of Cain at the small table in their hotel room.
Cain nodded woodenly. He’d taken two bites of the turkey sub, but it tasted like sawdust and the idea of eating another bite made him nauseous - perhaps not an uncommon reaction to finding out your father, who you already thought was pretty much the embodiment of evil, was actually even more evil than you’d thought.
His hands were cold, despite the warmth of the room, and he shivered as he chafed them together.
“Want me to fix your bandage again?” Damon asked, but Cain shook his head. Damon had already redone it when they’d first checked in and nothing had changed. It still ached, but not nearly as badly as it had the day before.
Damon stood, using the table to lever himself up, and he tugged Cain’s hands until he was standing, too. He guided them both to the end of the bed, then tore off the bedspread and sat down, tucking Cain in next to him and wrapping him up in his strong arms. He rocked them both quietly for a minute, and Cain was grateful for the silence. He had no framework for processing what he’d learned tonight.
“Tell me something about your father,” Damon said, like he was asking for a weather report.
Cain stiffened. “Damon, please. Not now.”
“No, I don’t mean something that’s going to help us investigate him or lead us to evidence. Tell me a good thing, Cain. Any good thing.”
“I-I can’t think of any right now,” Cain said crossly. “All I can see is that he has been a selfish, manipulative asshole for years. He’s murdered people. He knows fucking mobsters. In the grand scheme of things, does it matter that he volunteered as Cady’s soccer coach, or that he sang in the church choir?”
“Did he?” Damon asked. “In the church choir?”
Cain sighed. “Yeah he’s a tenor and my mom and Cady are sopranos. They used to sing solos sometimes at Christmas.”
“And what about you?”
“I sound like a cat whose tail’s been stepped on,” Cain said wryly.
“I don’t believe it,” Damon said, sounding like he couldvery easilybelieve it.
Cain chuckled. “Oh, believe it. I was better at debate team.” He remembered himself as a scrawny high schooler, nervous in front of the podium. “My father used to coach me in debate stuff. Like, give me pointers on my speeches, and show me how to refine them. And then he used to listen to me practice a dozen times, until I had it down.”
“That’s a really good memory,” Damon said.
“But is it?” Cain wasn’t so sure. “All I can think of now is what his real motivation must have been, you know? Why did he want to help me? Was it because he wanted me to follow in his footsteps, or lie for him?” He exhaled and felt Damon’s arm squeeze him more tightly.
“You can’t think like that,” Damon said. “You’ll drive yourself crazy. Remember, Cain, nobody is just one thing, you know? Nobody wakes up in the morning twirling their mustache and saying, ‘How can I beeeeviltoday?’ And that includes your father. He’s a bastard, but he also enjoys Cheetos and football. And he loves you, I’d put money on it, even if it’s not in the way you want or need him to love you. I’m sure he thinks he’s doing the right thing for you and the rest of your family.”
“You’re talking about a man whopaidsomeone tohave sex with you, to make sure you were implicated in acrime you didn’t commit,” Cain reminded him. And just saying the words made Cain feel like he was going to heave. How could Damon be so calm?
“Yeah. I know.” The pressure of Damon’s arm didn’t ease or hesitate, even for a second. “I’m also talking about your dad, Cain. Those things aren’t mutually exclusive.”
Maybe. Maybe it was okay to believe there was something decent lurking somewhere inside his father. But… “All I can think is, he’s out there condemning people for being gay like it’s this huge fucking sin, a crime against God. And meanwhile…”
“Yeah,” Damon agreed. “There is that. The hypocrisy is strong.”
“But thank you,” Cain whispered, letting himself lean against Damon’s side a little more fully.
“For what?”
“For not expecting me to hate him.”
Damon shrugged. “Come on. It’s not that easy. It’s not black and white.”
“It’s taking me a long time to figure this stuff out, I guess.”
“But you’ll get there eventually,” Damon assured him, pulling him more tightly against his side. “I swear.”
Somehow, when Damon said that, Cain almost believed him.
