Then came the boys. Allen’s throat closed completely as he looked through photos of the twins, Eddie and Evan, from birth all the way up. Dozens upon dozens of photos, showing various Halloween costumes, school plays, sporting events—everything good and wholesome that a family could do together was showcased in those pictures. It made Allen’s heart hurt, and for more than one reason. Here was what a real family should look like. No, they weren’t rich, and no, they didn’t have a whole lot more than each other. But it was obvious, more than obvious, that they had everything they needed, right between the four of them.
Envy didn’t even begin to cover it.
Allen stopped as he got to the last photo of the boys. It was the last one that would ever be taken of either one of them. It showed the twins standing on either side of their father, all decked out in their military uniforms, ready to board the plane that would take them to their first deployment as Marines fighting for Uncle Sam. Buddy had a huge grin on his face, absolutely bursting with pride aimed at his strapping, brave sons, both of whom had looks of bemused indulgence on their faces. After that photo was taken, they’d boarded the plane, telling their parents they would write and call as often as they were able.
Unfortunately, they never got the chance. Exactly three weeks to the day from the time they left their parents behind, their motor convoy was hit by a roadside bomb. Both boys died instantly, the only fatalities among the forty or so men and women who were attacked that day. Several of the others who were hit were gravely injured, losing limbs and suffering terrible wounds, but Eddie and Evan were the only two to lose their lives.
“Miss ‘em every day,” Buddy said quietly. “Every damn day. My poor Allie couldn’t stand it after God took them from us. Grief did her in about a year later. She just couldn’t stand to stay here when she knew they was waiting for her up in Heaven.”
Allen gave his friend a sad look. “Must have been hard, losing all three of them so quick like that.”
Buddy nodded. “T’was. Often wondered why God didn’t take me, too. Why He made me stay here, all alone, when He knew I would rather be with them.” He paused, blinked, and shot Allen a misty-eyed look. “Figured it out, a few years later. Had to stick around, you see. Otherwise, another boy would have lost his life.”
While Allen stared at the old man, thunderstruck, Buddy turned the page. Allen’s eyes widened as he noticed his own face among those photographs, page after page of pictures he hadn’t even known existed. Photos showing how starved he’d been, right after Buddy found him. Photos of him running across the construction yard, one hand holding the too-large safety helmet on his head as he dashed by on some errand. Photos of him putting on his new tool belt, the one Buddy had given him for Christmas the same year he gave Allen an official job as his assistant. Photos of the two of them eating dinner on the rare occasions they had enough money to splurge on a nice restaurant.
A photo of Allen holding up the expensive—to him, at least—camera Buddy had given him for his twentieth birthday. The camera that started everything that followed, from that day to this one.
Photo after photo after photo. Every single one of them just as lovingly displayed as the ones of Buddy’s real family had been.
Mouth hanging open, Allen looked at his friend in bewilderment. “You put me in here?” he whispered incredulously. “You put me in here with photos of your family? Your kids?”
“Of course,” Buddy said as if it should be obvious. “I took you in, didn’t I? Woulda given you the boys’ room, too, if I thought you’d stay in it. We Sorensens take care of our own.”
“I thought this house only had one bedroom,” Allen rasped.
Buddy harrumphed. “Always been two, son. You woulda figured that out if you’d just thought about it for a minute. Me an’ Allie lived here with our boys, didn’t we? You really think them two hellions slept on this couch until they were eighteen?”
He shook his head, giving Allen an understanding look. “When you came to me, you was scared as a deer facing wolves. Didn’t know what all you’d been through, but I could guess some of it. I knew if I’d offered you the room, you woulda been outta here faster than I could say ‘see ya.’ You didn’t trust nothing back then, especially not old guys like me offering handouts. So I gave you the couch, and made sure you knew you were here by my sufferance. Never touched you, neither, not even a hug. Knew you’d take it the wrong way, be afraid I meant more by it than I intended. Kept you at arm’s length just so you’d feel safe enough to stay with me.”
The old man cleared his throat roughly. “You been through so much before you turned up in my yard, son. Never wanted you to be afraid of having to go back out there. Hope I did the right thing.”
Allen nodded, head spinning. “You did. I wouldn’t have stayed if you offered me the room. I would have run the moment you brought it up.” He paused, swallowed hard. “Thank you. For understanding.”
Buddy nodded, shifting uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, water under the bridge. You picked yourself up, didn’t you? Made something of yourself, far and away better than I ever could have hoped for a scrawny little urchin like you was. Damn proud of you, boy.” He met Allen’s gaze, eyes shining. “Tell me about the job, son. Did you get the promotion?”
All of a sudden, it was like a dam burst in Allen’s mind. He told Buddy everything, about the company, about Brock, about Sidri and Tatum. Told him about the insane vacation he’d just taken. About finally coming to accept his bisexuality—and about falling in love with two people. He cringed, waiting for a negative reaction, but Buddy surprised him.
“Good for you,” the old man said with a laugh. “Thought you’d figure it out eventually. Wondered when you’d wise up and embrace what the good Lord gave you. ‘Bout time, too.” He raised an eyebrow. “So where are they? Why are you here with an old man like me instead o’ off somewhere with your boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Allen blinked. “You knew? You knew I was bi?”
Another snort. “Of course. Raised two sons, boy. Third ain’t no harder to read than the first two. Didn’t make no mind to me, either way. Just made me sad to see you fighting yourself so hard. Damn hard to live that way, fighting the world and your own mind all the time. Glad you finally figured it out.” Then he scowled. “You didn’t answer me. Why are you here and not with them?”
Allen shoved the photo album onto Buddy’s lap and stood, began pacing around the tiny room. He rubbed his biceps, frowning. “Everything fell apart,” he said finally. He told the old man about Brock, about how the whole company knew he’d been a teenage whore. Told about the pitying looks, the disgust as they stared at him while he ran out of the office. Then he told of the confrontation with his father, how the bastard had condemned him and threatened him right in front of his lovers.
“I could feel them both cringing every time that asshole opened his mouth,” Allen growled, voice thick with anguish. “They were so embarrassed to be there, with me, while my father condemned me for a freak. I knew I could never show my face around there again, not after Brock and my father ruined everything I was just starting to build. The scandal alone would tear the company apart, not to mention ruin both of them. I couldn’t put them through that, Buddy. I had to leave before things got really ugly.”
Buddy was silent for a long time while Allen paced. He waited until Allen crossed in front of the couch again, then pinned him in place with hard eyes. “Never took you for a coward, son.”
Allen’s jaw dropped. It felt like someone dropped a bucket of ice water over his head, hearing the contempt in the old man’s voice. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Buddy shook his head, lips drawn in hard, flat lines of disapproval. “Running away worked when you were fourteen. You was a kid, didn’t know how to stand up for yourself, and it was the only thing you could do to get out of there. But you’re a grown man, son. Grown men don’t turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble. Grown men stay and fight for what matters.”
He paused, cocked his head. “Unless, of course, you don’t actually love them.”
Allen’s knees gave out, and he sat on the coffee table, hard. “Of course I love them,” he strangled out, desperately trying to make the old man understand. “Don’t you get it? I love them so much I couldn’t stand to make them have to go through that shit because of me. I had to leave…”
Buddy rolled his eyes. Actually rolled his eyes. “Please. When you love someone, you look for reasons to stay with them—not reasons to run away. You said yourself you never really believed it when they said they loved you. Sounds to me like you was looking for an excuse to get out, and damn if you didn’t find you a doozy.”
Allen just stared, mouth hanging open.
Buddy crossed his arms over his chest, not giving an inch. “Look, son, I get that it’s hard. Not many people will understand your relationship—and there will be folks like your father who condemn you for it. But that don’t give you the right to run away. That don’t make it okay for you to leave them to deal with the aftermath of what happened today. You think they’re gonna appreciate the fact you high-tailed it out of there, leaving them to pick up the pieces? No siree-bob. All you did by running was prove to them that you wasn’t in it for the long haul, that they can’t depend on you to stick by them in a pinch. Damn bad way for a grown man to react to adversity, son. Damn bad.”
“But…but…” Allen stuttered incredulously.
Buddy scowled. “No buts, young’un. I only calls it like I sees it. But then again, I guess it is good you got out now.” He raised an eyebrow. “Better to leave them early, when the bonds are still new, than to turn tail and run after you been with them for a bit. Easier, I’d say, to get over it. You ran before they could really get attached, before they had a chance to figure out you didn’t love them the way they love you. At least you had that much integrity.”
“I left to protect them!” Allen yelled, jumping to his feet.
Buddy stayed seated, unmoved by Allen’s show of defiance. “You ran to protect yourself,” he refuted mildly. “You ran ’cause things started getting harder than you thought they would, ’cause you’d have to face other people. You didn’t run to protect them, son. You ran to protect yourself. Just like you did when you was fourteen.”
“How can you say that to me?” Allen roared, fists balling at his sides. “After everything I’ve gone through in my life, after the hell I survived, how can you seriously sit there and tell me I did the wrong thing?”
“I didn’t say you did the wrong thing,” Buddy answered. His face remained inscrutable. “I said you did a cowardly thing. There’s a difference. Right or wrong, it was still the coward’s way out, running away. Just because it turned out to be a good decision when you was a kid don’t make it right now you’re grown.”
“That’s not fair!”
Buddy rolled his eyes again. “Fair? You know who worries about fairness? Little kids. Little kids are supposed to play by rules, supposed to honor and respect each other, take turns, make everything all nice and equal. But adults know the world just don’t work that way. You want fair? You’re barking up the wrong tree.”
Allen slumped, his anger suddenly spent. “You don’t understand,” he whispered.
“No, I don’t understand,” Buddy agreed sardonically. “You finally figured out what you needed out of life. Finally found a job you love at a company that would kill to keep you. Finally found the two people who not only accepted you for who you are, but for who you had to be before you met them. You found the two people who could and do love you unconditionally, without reservation, guilt, or apology.
“And yet, at the very first sign that things might not always be hunky-dory, you tuck your tail and run like a scared little girl. No, son. I do not understand that at all.”
Allen leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees as he covered his face with both hands. Buddy just didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. He hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen the look of revulsion on his father’s face. Hadn’t felt the contempt of his coworkers. Hadn’t seen the way Sidri and Tatum bristled, practically shaking with anger. Because of Allen. Because he brought all this shit down on them, just by existing. And why wouldn’t they be angry with him? Why wouldn’t they be just as happy to see him go as his father had been thirteen years ago?
Oh. My. God.
Allen pulled his face out of hiding and stared at Buddy incredulously. The old man nodded grimly. “Wondered when you’d figure it out. Sidri and Tatum? They ain’t your father. You let his unfeeling hatred cloud your thinking. Projected it onto the two of them, when it’s as plain as plain they love you, no matter what. You made assumptions based on what’s happened to you in the past, rather than logical decisions based on the facts of the present. Easy to do, I’m afraid. It’s hard to separate fact from fiction when the Devil is staring you in the face. Don’t blame you for that much of it.”
Allen licked his lips, eyes wild. “What did I do, Buddy?”
Buddy sighed, patted the seat next to him. “Come sit here, son. This ain’t easy hearing, no matter how necessary it may be.” He waited silently while Allen hauled himself over to the couch, feeling like melting rubber. Buddy clapped a hand on his shoulder and met his eyes frankly.
“Problem is, son, you never really grew up,” the old man began quietly. Allen flinched, but he kept on, relentless. “Oh, you had to grow up somewhat, living rough the way you did. Got you some street smarts, learned to survive, to take care of yourself. Made it to manhood with all your parts intact, God be praised, and a damn fine specimen, if I do say so myself.”
Allen snorted out a laugh, and Buddy grinned cheekily before continuing. “That said, growing up physically ain’t the same as growing up mentally. You were traumatized at a very early age. And unfortunately for you, you never really had a chance to grow up past that. Inside, you’re still that scared fourteen-year-old boy, the one who was always looking over his shoulder, waiting for the knife you knew was coming out of the dark. You never learned to stand and face your problems, ’cause back then it was safer for you to run than it was to stay and fight. That became your go-to response, the natural solution to any problem that came your way.”
He squeezed Allen’s shoulder. “But you ain’t that little boy anymore, son. You really are grown, in more ways that just putting some muscle on those bones. You need to accept that life ain’t always easy, that there are gonna be roadblocks along the way. And yeah, it hurts like hell when you smack face-first into them sons of bitches, let me tell you. But that don’t mean you gotta run away from them. Means you gotta pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and knock them damn things to the ground.”
“Easier said than done,” Allen croaked.
Buddy nodded. “’Tis. Much easier. Don’t make it any less needful, though. Biggest lesson I ever learned? You gotta stand and fight for what matters to you. Otherwise, you’ll end up at the end of your days, wondering why nothing ever went right for you. God don’t give you things on a silver platter, boy. He gives you opportunities to make something of yourself, little hints and prods to put you on the right path. Ain’t His problem if you don’t follow His directions, though. That’s the definition of Free Will. He puts the path in front of you, but you gotta go down it on your own two feet.”
Allen smiled softly. “I think you’d get along with Sidri,” he said shyly. “You two have some pretty interesting ideas about God between you.”
“Love to meet her sometime. And Tatum, too.” He grinned, showing stained, yellow teeth. “Be nice to meet the lady and fella that won my boy’s heart.”
Tears welled up for the umpteenth time that day, but this time Allen didn’t try to stop them. Buddy wrapped his arms around Allen’s shoulders, held him while he cried. After a long time the tears finally stopped, and Allen leaned back, feeling as if a thousand weights had been lifted from his shoulders. He scrubbed his cheeks, met Buddy’s eyes with a watery smile.
“Sorry about that. I seem to be doing that a lot, lately.”
Buddy shrugged. “Ain’t no harm. Better to get them tears out than to stuff ’em down deep. Hurts less, that way. Better now?”
Allen nodded, but then he sighed. “Except now I don’t know what to do,” he admitted quietly. “I made a mess out of everything. They’ll probably never trust me again.”
“Won’t know till you ask ’em,” Buddy replied promptly. “What’s worse, son? Sitting here, wondering if they’ll take you back, or taking your courage by the throat and going home to ask them if they’ll take you back?”
Allen swallowed, took a deep breath. “Mind if I stay here for a bit? I don’t think driving is a good idea for me right now.”
“Of course. Come on, let’s order some pizza. You can tell me a little more about your wild vacation.”
At Allen’s deep blush, the old man cackled. “Okay, fine, not too many details. Doubt my old heart could take it, anyhow.”
Smiling, Allen followed the old man—the only father he’d ever truly had—into the kitchen.
Chapter 26
Tatum stood in the closet, staring at the empty place where Allen’s clothes had been.
He’d known Sidri was right when she warned him Allen was leaving. She was always right when it came to predicting what people would do, especially under duress. Yet he’d still hoped she was wrong, still prayed that Allen’s Viper would still be in the driveway when they got home tonight. Still hoped that, even if the car was gone, his stuff would still be there, indicating he intended to return.
Looked like he’d prayed in vain.
Sidri came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek on his shoulder blade. “He’ll come home,” she said quietly, her voice vibrating through Tatum’s back to settle somewhere around his heart. “He will.”
Demons Within [For Love of Authority] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 28
