by E M Lindsey
Will chuckled and reached for the chair opposite her. When he moved it, Molly’s eyes shot up and bore into him with an intense stare. “Is it okay if I sit with you?” he asked, hesitating.
Her brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you come to my house? This other lady picked me up from school and said I couldn’t go home because no one was there. I had to go somewhere else, but baba always said you’d come there if he…if he and mommy was…” She didn’t cry, but her voice was thick, and she couldn’t seem to finish her sentence.
Will winced, the words like a knife to his chest, and he wondered how he could have spent so much time debating about showing up for her. They had never met, and there was no telling what picture of him his parents had painted, but it was clear she’d been waiting. His father had set expectations for her, and the painful part was just how much he’d left Will out of the loop.
“I’m so sorry, Molly,” he said, folding his hands and resting them on the table as he sat. “I didn’t know for a few days about baba and mommy. If I had known, I would have come as fast as I could. But we’re here now, right?”
She looked at him a long while, then shrugged and went back to her coloring. Will looked up, feeling a little helpless as he met Shaw’s gaze who finally took pity on him and came over to kneel down next to Molly.
“Molly?” she said very softly and waited until the little girl looked up. “Do you want to maybe sit on the couch so we can talk to your brother?”
Molly bit her lip, then eventually nodded and slid from the chair. She made her way to the sofa and hopped up onto the worn cushion, leaving a large space for Will to take, and she was very pointedly not looking at him as she got settled.
Will hadn’t been expecting a warm reception from her. He knew she was traumatized, and he was nothing more than a stranger to her, but it was still hard to feel that rift between them. He thought about the guy from the bathroom, Sam, and the advice he’d given. Patience was absolutely necessary in this case, and he wasn’t going to let himself have another choice in the matter.
“Will,” Shaw said after a moment of silence, “why don’t you tell Molly about where you live?”
Molly looked up at him finally, her eyes a little wide and curious as he talked about Fairfield, and the mountains, and the little café. When he was done, she fiddled with the hem of her shirt, not meeting his gaze. “Will I live with you there?” she asked.
Will looked over at Shaw who tapped her pen on the little notepad she was holding. “That’s what we’re here to decide. Do you want to live with your brother?”
Although she was old enough to give her opinion, Will didn’t think she would be the deciding factor. In fact, he had no idea what went into making the decision. It struck him then, that in spite of this meeting, he might not get to keep her. What if she was shuffled off to some group home? Or adopted by some family? Would he ever see her again?
“Baba said I had to,” she answered.
Shaw nodded. “I know that, but is that what you want? To live with your brother?”
She stared at him for a long time, the intensity of her gaze so much like their father, it made Will’s chest ache. “I think so,” she finally answered.
He felt his breath leave him in a relieved whoosh, and he was surprised at how much tension melted away just knowing she was okay with it. “That’s good,” he told her. “I’d love to have you come stay with me.”
She looked up at him cautiously. “Do I get my own room?”
He laughed, the sound a little rough. “Yeah. Yeah, you can definitely have your own room.”
She kicked her feet, her untied laces swaying a few inches from the ground. “Do you have pets? I wanted a dog, but baba said we couldn’t have one.”
Will hesitated. “I don’t have pets, but it’s definitely something we can talk about, okay?”
Molly was satisfied with that, then shifted to the end of the cushion. “Can I color again?”
Shaw gave a quick nod, and she rose as Molly hopped off the sofa to rush back to her little table. “Your brother and I are going into the room next door to finish talking, okay?”
Molly was engrossed in her unicorn, so she didn’t do much besides nod, and Will quickly followed Shaw to the room next door which was set up more like a place for meetings instead of therapy. They took a seat at the large round table, and Shaw put her notebook and a thin manila folder near his elbow.
“For now, we’d like to release her to your custody,” Shaw said, diving right in. “I know this situation is unconventional, and I hesitated at first since you were totally unaware of the guardianship papers.”
He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t want her, it’s just that it was totally unexpected. I haven’t spoken to either of my parents in nearly a decade—their choice. We had a rift over my career choice and I was disinherited. I only knew about Molly because of Facebook.”
“That became obvious once we were given a copy of your parents’ final will and testament. From the documents we received, you aren’t mentioned—at least, not for inheritance. Most of your parents’ assets were placed in a trust for Molly when she turns twenty-one.” Shaw’s tone was apologetic, but Will didn’t think it was necessary. He wasn’t expecting anything to come to him, and frankly, he wouldn’t have wanted it anyway.
“That’s fine,” he told her when it was obvious she was waiting for a response.
“My biggest concern is resentment. Molly’s already suffered a severe trauma, and she’s not yet begun to show outward signs of that. But she will. I don’t want your resentment toward your parents to direct itself at her.”
“I don’t have resentment toward them,” he started, but Shaw fixed him with a look that shut him up.
“The thing is, it’s usually subconscious, and it’s no one’s fault when it does manifest. But you need to understand that Molly’s not going to be an easy child. At least, not at first,” she told him. “It’s going to get much harder before it gets any better, and that will likely trigger some negative thoughts about the situation your parents put you in when it comes to your sister.”
“So, what do I do about it if I don’t even realize it’s happening?” he asked, feeling a little bit of anxiety rising in his chest. “I don’t want things here to be worse for her.”
“Therapy,” she said. “Molly’s going to need it anyway, and family therapy between the two of you will be required for at least the first year. Seeking individual counseling for yourself could only benefit you in both the short and long term.”
It wasn’t as though Will disagreed, but individual therapy would require honesty. Honesty would require admitting what a total and utter mess his personal life was, especially when it came to Joe. Admitting that to someone would force him to confront why he hadn’t just cut Joe out of his life, why he tolerated being pushed around and degraded, and he wasn’t sure he was prepared to do that. Not with everything else happening.
Yet, he had Molly to think about now. If Molly was in his life, he wasn’t going to subject her to Joe’s particular brand of garbage, and maybe this was God’s way of telling him it was time to make a change.
“Yes,” he said after far too long of a silence. “Yes, I’m definitely willing.”
Chapter Eight
Fuck me, Sage thought as the realization that he was on yet another date hit him in the face. Except this time, he didn’t have anyone to blame but himself. When Chloe suggested they grab drinks after the spin class, he hadn’t understood what she was really asking him. They’d been laughing together during most of class, the two of them occupying the back row and only half-assing it. The instructor was terrible, and Sage wasn’t even a spin class kind of guy, but he had wanted to try something new.
The only good thing that had come out of it was a new friend. Or at least, that’s what he thought, until her ankle hooked around his under the table. He felt his cheeks go pink, and he looked up at her coy smile and wondered how the hel
l he was going to break it to her without totally humiliating her in the middle of the crowded restaurant. She was nice and didn’t deserve a public rejection, but even if he was into dating right then, he was gay. Unequivocally, not even a little bi-curious, gay. It also didn’t help that Sage’s lack of social skills brought on by his years of trauma came with an abject fear of public confrontation. The very idea of correcting her now made anxiety race up his spine.
“Can you watch my drink?” he asked her, fighting down a fit of panic. “I just need to go to the restroom.”
“No worries,” she said with a tiny grin. Her eyes were alight, a curl of dark hair falling just above her left brow. Sage understood she was an attractive woman, and another man might have been sorely tempted. But Sage had stopped forcing himself through hetero-motions years ago, and now was no exception. “Hurry back,” she told him as he stepped away.
His stomach clenched as he rushed into the bathroom, grateful there were a couple of stalls, and he locked himself inside before pulling out his phone. He hesitated over his contacts, knowing that most of the guys were working, but he remembered Mat saying he had an afternoon appointment with his physical therapist, and he was probably Sage’s best bet.
Hitting Mat’s contact, he held his breath as it rang and rang. “Please fucking pick up,” Sage muttered.
After the fourth ring, Mat finally did. “Hey, man.”
“I’m having a huge emergency,” Sage told him in a rush. “This woman I met in spin class suggested drinks at Ruby’s afterward, and apparently it’s a fucking date.”
Mat snorted. “Again? Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Sage hissed into the phone. “She’s nice, and I don’t want to humiliate her, but she’s getting…handsy.” There was a silence, and then Sage heard the muffled sounds of Mat laughing. “Oh, fuck you, dude! I’m trying to be nice here. She and I had a good time in class, and I just assumed she knew I was only into guys.”
“Well, that’s fair. I mean, a dude your size in spin class,” Mat said with another chuckle.
Sage groaned, pressing his forehead against the door of the stall before realizing how fucking dirty it probably was and stepping back. “You have to help me. How do I get out of this?”
Mat hummed quietly for a second. “I have an idea. Just…sit tight and stall any make-out sessions, okay?”
“Mat, what are you,” Sage started, but the line went dead. “Asshole,” he muttered. Pushing the door open, he quickly washed his hands, saying a brief prayer that Mat really was going to help and not leave him hanging out to dry just for the fun of it. He took his time, but eventually he had to head back out.
He spotted Chloe still at the table, picking at the basket of fries they’d ordered, and he saw there was a fresh beer waiting. He contemplated sending it back, only because he wanted a clear head in dealing with this situation, but then again, being a little tipsy also sounded better than dealing with it sober.
She caught his eye as he approached, and as he passed by her chair, her hand shot out and rubbed against his hip. “You good?”
Sage cleared his throat, deftly stepping out of her reach and sitting down. “Yep. No worries.” He snatched the beer up and gulped half as she giggled at him. “Sorry for taking so long.”
“Don’t apologize to me,” she said. “Though, we can get out of here if you want.”
“Oh. I’m good,” Sage said, playing dumb as best he could. “I don’t normally eat all this greasy shit after working out, but who wants it to go to waste.” He grabbed a handful of fries, shoving them into his mouth, and then regretting life as boiling hot oil burst onto his tongue. His eyes began to water, but he managed a tense smile. “Want some?”
She looked slightly amused and slightly horrified as she waved him off. “You know, I’m alright with the drink.” She took a delicate sip of her half-gone vodka soda, then stirred the lime around with the tiny black straw. “So, uh…I never did ask. What do you do for a living?”
“I have a stall at Irons and Works,” he told her, sipping the beer to ease the burn. He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “I tattoo there full time, but I’m also taking some graduate classes at the University.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth twitched into a half smile. “Really? You do tattoos?”
As annoyed as he was, he wasn’t surprised that she’d latched onto that. He started an internal count-down to when she’d start hinting for free ink. “Yeah, been doing that for about five years now. My brother got me into it. It’s a pretty sweet gig.”
“I bet,” she said, her gaze straying to the ink on his arms. “I have one tattoo. My girlfriends and I got it during rush week nine years ago.” She met his gaze and smiled. “It’s usually covered by clothes, so only a few lucky people get to see it.”
Sage felt his throat tighten with nerves. “I’ve uh…I’ve definitely done some intimate work.”
She blinked, then laughed. “Yeah? Like what? Ass-cheeks?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s tame compared to my client last week. He wanted his cock tattooed with snake scales.”
Chloe, who had just been taking a drink of her vodka, choked a little. “Wait. You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack,” he told her. “It didn’t end up working out, though.”
Her eyebrows flew high on her forehead. “How does that even work?”
Sage contemplated just telling her not to worry about it. He’d done a surprising amount of genital work, and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but it tended to be more awkward than it was straight forward. Then again, it also might be the thing to put her off. “Well, for penis tattoos, it has to be held taut.”
“So can they like, pop a Viagra?” she asked.
He smiled softly. “No, not exactly.”
“So…”
“Either they have to hold their dick so the skin is tight, or someone has to hold it for them,” Sage clarified. “Most of the time, when people realize that, they bail. Dick tatts are something a person has to really want.”
“Not like your client, then,” she guessed.
Sage picked up his glass. “Not like my client.” He downed the rest of his beer and set it down with a loud thud. “He came back a few days later and I ended up doing something on his pecs.”
“Must be a bummer to have your hands on dicks all day long,” she said, her eyes going half-lidded. She leaned toward him and ran one hand over the front of her left breast. “Maybe you could take a look at something of mine sometime. You can tell me where you think the best place to…”
“Hey, babe.” The voice cut her off, and Sage felt a rough hand at the back of his neck before he was tipped back. He had just a second to take in Mat’s dark eyes and slight smirk before he was being kissed.
Sage blinked rapidly when Mat pulled away, his gaze falling to Chloe’s wide eyes and pink cheeks as she sat back, fumbling for her glass. “Uh. Hey, you,” he said to Mat, catching on to what his friend was up to. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I was bored, so I thought I’d come bother you since your class is over.” Mat thumbed the edge of his jaw, then eased down into the chair next to Sage, leaning over to steal a fry. “How was it? Hey, I’m Mat, by the way,” he told Chloe who was still sitting with a deer in headlights look. “Sage told me he made a friend in spin class tonight.”
“Uh. Uh,” she said and cleared her throat, her gaze moving rapidly between the both of them. “Yeah. Sorry, yes. I’m Chloe.”
Mat shook her hand, then gave Sage puppy dog eyes. “Babe, will you go get me a beer? I think Rubes has that Belgian wheat I love so much this week, and I really don’t want to get up again.”
Sage bit his lip, but he could tell Mat’s plan was working, and it would give both him and Chloe an out without anyone being openly rejected. “Sure thing. Chloe, you want a refill?”
“Ah, no,” she said, swirling what was left in her glass. “I should actually take off. I have an early day to
morrow.”
Sage nodded as he pushed to his feet. “Okay. Well, hope to see you next week.”
“Yeah, for sure,” she said, though her tone told him no way in hell would she be there. He was bummed to miss out on making a new friend, but grateful the mix-up was over.
Heading up to the bar, he slid onto a stool and ordered something for both him and Mat, knowing he was going to need it. He’d happily order a ride home if he could forget the feeling of her hand on his hip, or the sight of her rubbing her tit to try to get him going.
“Uh…Sage?” The sound of Chloe’s voice made him jump, and he turned to see her standing a couple feet away.
“Hey, did you change your mind about the drink?” he asked.
She shook her head, then took a step forward, her brow low in a frown. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were gay?” she hissed.
Sage blinked, leaning back. “I…guess I didn’t realize I was obligated to disclose my sexuality to a total stranger,” he bit back.
She flinched a little but crossed her arms. “Maybe when you were flirting with me, it would have been a good time to let me know you were just fucking with me.”
Sage couldn’t help his laugh, as mean as it might have come across. “Yeah, no. I was definitely not fucking with you. I get that straight people have a hard time understanding the difference, but being friendly and joking around with someone is not flirting. And neither is having a beer with a friend. I apologize for not telling you when you started putting your hands on me, but honestly I was uncomfortable with it, and I didn’t want to embarrass you.”
“Right. Because having your boyfriend come over and make out with you was less humiliating,” she growled. “All you fucking gays are the same.”
“Hi,” came a voice from the bar. Sage looked over to see the owner, Ruby, who knew all the guys from the shop really well by now, glaring at Chloe. “I’m gonna need you to leave.”
