Page 65 of Under the Texas Sky
Damnit. Damnit.I don’t want to go over there and talk to him, not after yesterday. Not with Mitch as a witness to all my shortcomings.
“I’m going with or without you,” Mitch declares.
Well, that doesn’t leave me with much of a choice, because I’m not letting Mitch out of my sight.
“Let’s go,” I huff, standing up.
He goes toward the front door, but I stop him before he can open it.
“Put your jacket on,” I demand.
He rolls his eyes, but does as I say. Slipping each arm carefully through the sleeves and zipping it up. “Good enough?”
I’m tempted to tell him no just to fuck with him. But I’m not that evil. “Aren’t you supposed to be the parent?”
“Shut the hell up, and come on. Let’s go get our boy back.”
Ourboy. How I wish that was true, but one day maybe. Hopefully.
But that’s the thing about hope, it’s the easiest thing to have and the easiest thing to be taken away.
CHAPTER 55
KIAN
16 years old
My dad stormed in the front door, the hinges creaked from the force as he shoved it open. He'd come from church in a rage. There wasn’t a lot of sense in his drunk ramblings at the beginning, but from what I gathered, there was not a large turnout for today’s sermon. Which okay, granted, it was a slow day at the church, but there was a revival downtown at the same time, so of course people flocked to that.
I sat in the front row pew, like the dutiful and God-fearing son that I am, and listened while he preached his usual homophobia and misogyny. The only thing keeping me together was Trent. Trent who sat by me in the front pew and sang the songs that I taught him so he would know what’s going on. In between those four walls, we’re two best friends who hang out and love listening to the word of God on Sundays.
When it’s just the two of us, in the close confines of his bedroom, it's a different story. We’re boyfriends who love to sit and talk while they play boardgames. We talk about where we see ourselves, what kind of careers we want, how big we want our house to be. Our discussions are aboutus. Ourfuture.
The only thing that keeps me from panicking was Trent staying by my sideduring church, knowing that he has my back no matter what.
“Get over here, boy,” my dad snarls, standing by our kitchen table. I quake in fear on the far side of our couch. Nothing good is going to come out of me going over there, but it will be worse if he comes over here.
I untuck my legs from under me and stand up, my bottom half shaking like a leaf. Breathing deeply, I remind myself that pain is only temporary, and no matter how much it hurts, I always heal.
It’s a shitty mantra, but it’s been the only thing that helps me through the worst of my dad’s rage.
I stand in front of him, his face so like my own, you can tell I’m his offspring if you see us walking down the road together. I hate it. I hate that I have any part of me that also belongs to him. I can’t stand looking at my own reflection in the mirror–the temptation to smash it to smithereens is always there.
He looks down on me. I confidently stand at five feet and eleven inches, but he has a few inches on me. His body mass is greater than mine, too, and he’ll never let me forget it.
“What did you do today?” he snarls, getting in my face. The putrid scent of the alcohol on his breath burns my nose.
“I went to church. I came home with mom and Trent. Worked on some homework. That’s all, sir.”
The usual, what we’ve been doing every Sunday since I’ve been old enough to go to school. The one change was adding Trent to the mix, but that hasn’t been a problem. My dad hasn’t said anything about it. If anything, he seems more excited that I’m bringing someone to church.
“What else?”
My mom comes out of their bedroom, and stops when she sees us. Pausing to take in how drunk my dad is and how scared Iam. She tsks under her breath and walks right back into their bedroom, leaving me alone to deal with this.
“I–uhm. I’m sorry, sir.”
I’m cut off from saying anything else when he grabs me by my hair and drags me over to the counter. He presses my face onto the hard granite, the coldness biting into my cheeks.
