by K. F. Breene
“I lost control.”
Her soft hands felt up his chest and wrapped around his neck. She gave him a sweet kiss. “I know. I liked it. I love you. I don’t even feel weird about saying that. Usually the first couple ‘I love you’s’ are always kind of awkward. Not with you.”
“Good. Ditto. What time is it? Man, I feel good. So damn relaxed.” The red numbers on the clock next to the bed showed 2:35. He glanced at the candle. “That candle is still going strong.”
Jace let his body collapse back into the mattress. He pulled her down with him. “Five more minutes.”
He felt the kiss right before she wiggled out of his grasp. “You know we’ll fall asleep, the candle will catch the room on fire, and then everyone will know.”
“Blow the candle out. Problem solved.”
He watched her round, muscular butt walk over to the candle. His gaze drifted to the paradise between her legs. He might’ve said he was completely honest tonight, but he wasn’t. He was omitting the fact that she had a hard hold on his vitals. That he felt like a beggar at her feet, salivating for attention. He’d gnaw off his arm if she asked him, just to make her happy. At this very moment, his brain was conjuring things to do for her, or things to buy her, just to make her smile.
Thank God she was a genuine, honest, trustworthy person, or she could make a fool out of him and probably run off with all his assets. It’d be as simple as asking outright for it. He wouldn’t even blink as he handed over the key to his Harley. And that just wasn’t done.
“Kay. See you tomorrow. I’ll miss you.” After she got dressed she blew him a kiss across the room.
Elation tickled him, and he smiled into the darkness as she stepped out of the room, missing her already.
***
Jace sauntered into the kitchen feeling better than he had in years. He felt like he was in his early twenties again, with all the energy and stamina of a king. His mom glanced up from the stove and then did a double-take. “You’re looking chipper. Did you sleep well? You certainly slept in.”
“Like a log,” Jace replied, scanning the bacon frying on the stove. “Have you seen…Peter?”
“He and Cassie are out back. Oh, and Demetri asked about you.”
Jace grabbed a piece of toast from a stack to the side of the stove and made his way toward the backyard. Halfway there, just beyond the formal dining room, he met Demetri coming the other way.
“Hey, bro,” Demetri said, his face stern and his eyebrows dipped low. “You got a second?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
Demetri waved him toward the side, leading Jace down to the basement. Once there, he waited for Jace to walk through, not making eye contact, and closed the door behind them.
“What the fuck are you doing, Jason?” Demetri said in a snarl as he faced Jace.
Cold washed through Jace’s middle. He stared at his brother, having a clear idea where this was going, and having no idea how he’d handle it.
“I heard you last night. What are you doing, bro? Hanging out with her is one thing. Making googly eyes or whatever—it’s a thin line you’ve been skirting, but this? What the fuck is wrong with you? Peter’s our brother, bro! You can’t shit on him like this. You can’t play him out like this. I thought you were a better man than that!”
Warning prickles started at the base of Jace’s spine. “Don’t worry about this, Demetri. This isn’t your business.”
Demetri shoved Jace backward into the wall. Jace wiped his brother’s hands away, aggression rising up hard and fast. He kept his hands low, though. Demetri was in the right on this—at least for how things stood at that moment.
“That’s what you got to say for yourself? Don’t worry about it?” Demetri shoved Jace again.
“Not wise, Demetri,” Jace replied through clenched teeth. He fisted his hands and held onto his control. “This isn’t something you should get involved in.”
“Well someone’s got to get involved in it. She came out of Peter’s room this morning—though I have no idea how Peter missed her last night—which means you guys are obviously trying to cover it up.”
Demetri stepped up close, right into Jace’s face. “End it. End it, or I’ll blow this whole thing up.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, man.” Jace’s knuckles turned white he was squeezing his hands so hard. “Back down.”
“You heard my terms. Stay the hell away from her, don’t touch her, and don’t fuck this up for Peter. The kid is trying to find his way—he doesn’t need the brother that has it all to tear it all down for him.”
The brother that has it all? Jace was living out of a suitcase after getting his heart ripped out. What exactly did he have that Demetri wanted? Because whatever it was, Demetri was welcome to it—Jace would trade places for a family and wife that loved him any day.
He didn’t mention any of that, though. He kept his mouth shut while Demetri simmered down the anger and backed off slowly. His eyes held a warning. “Don’t fuck up.”
Jace watched Demetri leave the room with shaking hands. Adrenaline coursed through him in sheets, making him grasp for control with everything he had. He took a ragged breath and started pacing the room to calm down before he went outside.
Things were at a boil now, and it was about ready to explode.
Chapter 23
Peter sat in the lawn chair with his heart in his throat. Cassie sat next to him, quiet and anxious. His three brothers sat on the deck, no one talking. Demetri was pissed, Nick uncomfortable, and Jace was battling his control to keep quiet. And to keep away from Cassie.
“Why is he staying away from you so hardcore?” Peter asked.
“We probably have the same guess. You heard us last night, too.”
As certainty rose, so did Peter’s fear. Yes, he had heard them. And while Cassie had apologized up and down for losing control and potentially blowing his cover, the look in her eyes, and that in Jace’s eyes, wasn’t something Peter could ask them to feel badly about.
“I’m going to tell everyone tonight. After dinner. While I’m doing that, you should pack up. I have a feeling we’ll be leaving shortly after,” Peter said.
Cassie’s hand reached over and covered his. “He said he would go to L.A. with us,” Cassie said quietly. “That he would take you up on your offer.”
“Oh yeah? Did you tell him that would happen sooner, rather than later?”
“Peter, give your family a little credit. It’ll be a shock, but they’ll adjust. They love you.”
“My father tolerates me because I almost fit in his ideal role of a man. Let that crumble, and watch what happens.”
“Give him some credit. He’ll come around.”
Peter shook his head and got up. “I’m going to go pack. See you at dinner.”
Five men and Becky sat around the clean and cleared dinner table. The wives and kids were outside or in the front room, and Cassie was up in her room packing as Peter had instructed. When Peter had asked for the family meeting, he had specified the immediate family.
“What is it, Peter?” Roger sat at the head of the table with his hands clasped in front of him.
Jace sat next to him with his hands in his lap, a stoic expression nailed to his face. Demteri and Nick the same expressions they’d worn all day, one uncomfortable, one angry, and Peter’s mother simply looked curious.
Peter wiped his brow and adjusted his arms, sweating through his cotton, collared shirt. He cleared his throat and rubbed at his constricted chest. His hands and legs both shook. His gut pinched uncomfortably.
“I have some news.” Peter pulled at his collar, feeling choked even though all three buttons were undone.
Demetri glanced at Jace before rolling his neck. He leaned forward, mirroring his father.
“What is it, honey?” his mom asked with a supportive smile. “Does it involve you and Cassie?” Her eyebrows rose hopefully.
“Um.” His throat was so dry. He took a sip
of wine. Then another. “Well…”
“Out with it, son.” Roger’s tone was no-nonsense.
Out with it. Right.
Peter straightened his back, and spoke with a quivering voice. “I’m gay.”
Silence reigned as those two syllables bled into everyone’s ears.
Slowly, his father’s gaze hardened. “You’re what?”
Peter’s face reddened. It hurt to breathe. “Gay. I like men.”
Roger’s fist pounded the table in a sudden fit of temper. “Don’t you speak that filth in my house! No son of mine is gay.”
“Roger, please.” Becky reached across the table and laid her hand on the table front of Peter. “It’s okay, son. But are you sure?”
Peter choked out a laugh. “Yes, Mom. I have a boyfriend in L.A.—“
“Don’t you laugh at your mother!” Roger stood up, both of his hands braced on the table. “This is bullshit. You’re not gay. You’re just confused.”
“He’s gay, dad,” Jace said in a firm voice. “He’s well past the age of confusion.”
“You knew?” Roger turned his vehemence on Jace.
Jace gazed back steadily. “I’ve known for a couple days. Peter told me when he gave me the green light with Cassie. I’m moving down to L.A. to be closer to her.”
“Oh, honey, that’s wonderful!” Becky exclaimed. “A tad unexpected at the moment, but just great.”
“Kind of sudden.” Nick held up his hands into Jace’s stare. “Just saying—it’s only been a few days.”
“I just wasted five years with the wrong woman,” Jace shot back. “Time makes no difference.”
“It wasn’t a waste if Cassie is the one.” Becky winked at Jace.
“True. She feels the same way?” Nick asked, somehow skirting the issue with Peter entirely.
“She invited me,” Jace answered.
“Can we get back on topic, please?” Roger’s stare had not left Peter. “We need to figure out what to do with this problem.”
“It’s not a problem,” Jace interjected calmly.
“Stay out of this, Jason, this doesn’t concern you.”
“He’s my brother; it concerns me as much as it does you,” Jace fired back.
“How long have you known?” Demetri asked quietly, staring at his hands clasped on the table in front of him.
“For sure?” Peter asked back, just as quietly. “Just after high school.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” his mom wanted to know.
“Because he knew it was against God, that’s why,” Roger spat. “He knew it would bring shame to this family. What do you think people will say, Rebecca? They’ll say, ‘There goes Roger’s faggot son’, that’s what they’ll say.”
“Dad, that’s too far.” Jace stood, his height and girth topping his fathers. “He’s your son. He can’t help his sexual orientation.”
“Oh, his sexual orientation—is that what they’re calling it? He hangs around with other men doing unspeakable things and flaunting disgusting behavior. I’ve been to San Francisco—I know what really goes on there!” Roger jammed his pointer finger onto the table. “No son of mine will be a gay under my roof!”
“He doesn’t live under your roof, dad,” Nick said quietly, his head lowered to match Demetri’s.
Roger’s gaze shifted to his mutinous son. A wild gleam lit in his eye. “Did you know about this, too, Nicholas?”
“Jenn suspected. I kept it to myself.”
Roger nodded in determination. “That’s right you did. Because that is the sort of thing a person keeps to himself.”
“Why did you bring Cassie if…you know…” Demetri kept his gaze downward, but angled his head to show he was talking to Peter.
“I wasn’t sure I would say anything. But then she and Jace ended up liking each other, and I was keeping them apart, so I figured I had to go through with it.”
Demetri hunched a little more.
“And she was okay with this? Does she know?” Roger asked in an accusatory tone.
An intensity ran through the room that had everybody glancing at Jace. He turned to his father, his muscles going taut. “I would be very careful how you speak about Cassie, Dad.”
Roger’s face went from flushed to pale in one beat. He didn’t back down, though. Roger rarely backed down from anyone. Instead, as a man who had wielded a lot of power in large companies, he shifted focus. “Well, regardless, I will not accept this. Peter, you will have to try harder.”
“At what? Pretending I’m something that I’m not?” Peter shot back.
His father stood rigidly, glaring. “You are not gay! Stratford men are not gay, do you hear me? And until you stop talking this nonsense, you will leave this house. Do you understand me? I will not have this talked about under my roof.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Becky spoke up, glancing at Roger. “That’s not fair, Roger. You can’t condemn him for something he can’t help.”
“Rebecca, you wouldn’t understand. That is just propaganda for people to feel special. They want us to applaud their differences as they prance around asking for government handouts and contracting AIDS. Well, I’m not buying it. It’s not natural and I will not have it. Maybe if he’s cut off he’ll think twice about his little rebellious streak.”
“Gay men don’t get any more handouts than anybody else,” Peter said into the table. “It’s not like I get a subsidy for liking another guy. If anything I get crapped on for it.”
“Enough!” his dad roared, pounding the table again. “I will not hear this. Get out of this house! Until you come to your senses, you are no son of mine.”
“I go, too.” Jace stood and took a step back from the table. “If you don’t support him, dad, or at least ignore the things you don’t like, you divide this family. That’s your choice, but I back him.”
“Wait—“ Becky stood as Peter did, tears in her eyes.
Nick and Demetri both sat with their heads bowed, refusing to get involved. A heavy weight settled deep in Peter’s stomach.
“No, Rebecca, this is for the best.” Roger stood firm from his perch at the head of the table, his hands shaking slightly right before he braced them on the table.
“Okay.” Peter turned to leave. Jace waited for him patiently.
“No!” Becky hurried around to the other end of the table, stopping Peter with a harshness he hadn’t heard from her since he was a kid. She stepped between Jace and Peter and faced Roger, one trembling hand on each of her boys. “For years I have heard that the home is the woman’s domain. Looking after the kids and keeping a welcoming home was always my duty. You brought home the money, and I kept up the domestic end of things. That was my job. Well, that makes me the boss of this house. And as the boss of this house, in charge of looking after my children, I say he stays as long as he wants.
“If you don’t like that, Roger, well then, by California law I get half of everything you own, and I will take it. God help me, I will take it so my baby always has a place to come back to. Do you hear me, Roger? You will not chase my baby away from me!”
Nick and Demetri turned toward their mother with wide eyes and slack jaws. Roger’s stance turned rigid, not sure what to say in the wake of his wife putting her foot down. It hadn’t happened in Peter’s memory.
Becky turned to Peter with tears in her eyes. “I am your mother, Peter, and I love you. You have a home, okay? You always have a home.”
Peter’s throat tightened up and a tear leaked out of his eye. He hugged his mother tighter than he ever had in his life. She’d stood up for him when she’d never stood up for herself. She threatened to leave the only thing she’d known for over thirty years to ensure he wasn’t locked out in the cold. That sacrifice spoke louder than words.
As Peter walked away, Jace clapped him on the back and said softly. “The first battle is always the hardest, but you have people on your side. He’ll come around.”
Peter nodded hopefully.
Chapter 24
Cassie pulled up to Marcus’ house the next afternoon, having left early the morning after Peter broke the news to his family. Yes, they could’ve stayed. But since his parents had had a screaming match after the meeting broke up, he wanted to go, and she was thankful for it.
The good news was that Nick and Demetri had both sought Peter out individually before he left. Nick had had more time to think on it, so he was a little more open to the idea, but even though Demetri had been blind-sided, and wasn’t wholly comfortable, he still shook Peter’s hand and wished him a good trip home.
“Home.” The sigh in Peter’s voice spoke volumes.
Cassie threw her car into park and sat for a quiet moment. “How do you feel with all the insanity six hundred miles away?”
Peter stared through his window at his and Marcus’ front door—even though Marcus hadn’t officially added him to the lease yet. “It went better than I expected, all things considered. It’s just my dad, but Jace says that with everyone against him, he’ll come around enough to maintain control of the family. I doubt I’ll get any warm hugs, though.”
“But he’s not a hugger, anyway, right? Warm or otherwise.”
Peter huffed out a laugh. “True.”
“And at least now you don’t have to try to impress him. You could win a Pulitzer, or get really famous, and you still wouldn’t. That’s gotta lift a weight off your shoulders, huh? Now you don’t have to strive for anything, and you’ll get the same reception.”
Peter laughed again as a large silver truck rumbled up next to them.
“What’s he going to do with his trailer?” Peter glanced out the window as Jace started backing into an open parking spot behind them. “Oh, he’s going to break them apart. Got it.”
“I thought he said that was the old truck? Three years old isn’t exactly old. And it’s a high-dollar truck. The man is smoking something.”
“Five years old, I think,” Peter clarified.
Cassie rolled her eyes. Jace had made out like the shiny Dodge with an extended cab, big tires, and all sorts of lights and fixtures was some sort of beater. If this was the crappy ride, she hated to wonder what the nice one was like. She said as much.
