Page 65 of Viking Ink

My skin felt hot, and my mouth tasted like metal. I wanted to throw up or faint, and I could barely fight as she dragged me from Mitch’s grasp.

I was already skirting the edges of fainting when her grip loosened, and I heard her shriek.

“You disgusting little pervert! How dare you lay a hand on me? Look, there’s a policeman! He’ll soon put you in your place,” she crowed, triumphant. I shivered, sinking to my knees. Where was Simon? I needed my Daddy to come now. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to Mitch.

“What’s going on here, Mitch? Why is our Rhys on the ground, and who’s this lady screaming like a banshee?”

“Hey, Donald. Remember the old stories about wicked stepmothers? Well this bitch is Rhys’s. She tried to take him against his will, grabbed hold of him and kept dragging him, even though anyone could see he didn’t want to go.” Mitch’s voice was by my ear. I realized he’d knelt down, and was shielding my body from Susan. His presence helped me breathe a little easier.

I cracked open one eye and saw Donald scowling at my stepmother— Donald, who’d so terrified me on our first meeting. And now he was focusing all the force of his terrifying scowl on my stepmother.

“Mitch, call your brother, tell him to get up here. Rhys needs him. And you, Mrs?” he arched a brow in question at my stepmother.

“O’Connell. My husband is Senior Sergeant O’Connell of the Milford station. I’m Rhys’s mother.”

“Don’t care. Rhys said he didn’t want to come with you, and you tried to coerce him.” Donald said. “You’re with the church group that came in on the bus just before, right?”

Susan lifted her chin. “Yes.”

Donald pulled out his notebook, tapping his pencil against it. “The same group that visited Samforth this morning and caused a disruption at Sunshine Books?”

Susan suddenly looked uncertain, and her chin dropped. “By disruption, do you mean our silent protest outside of that place?”

“Hmm. Calling the customers perverts and sodomites doesn’t sound all that silent to me. Let’s see.” Donald flipped open his notebook. “Threw rocks into the window of the store, causing several hundred pounds of damage to stock, and harassed the customers. Nope, not some silent protest.” Donald flipped his notebook shut with a snap.

“That shop catered to sodomites and freaks! It’s a place of perversion and needs to close!” Susan snapped.

“It’s a bloody good book shop, and the muffins and coffee are pretty good too,” Donald said. “And you know that if this is about their selection of LGBT books and their counselling service, that would be considered a hate crime on your part?”

I had to choke back a laugh, especially when Donald looked at me giving a slow wink. I suddenly had a whole new level of respect for him, and promised myself never to call him Officer Grumpy again.

“I see your Simon huffing up the hill, Rhys. Let’s get you up and to him before he busts a gasket.” He turned, glaring, towards Susan. “You’d better get going. The sergeant is rounding up the rest of your group. We don’t want your sort in this town. We’re a nice place here, accepting of everyone. Not to mention, you’ve upset our Rhys. Off with you, before I decide that you need to spend some time in the local lockup.”

“Rhys? Where the fuck is he?” I could hear Simon’s voice through the crowd of onlookers who’d gathered because of the ruckus we’d caused. Mitch helped me to my feet as Simon broke through the crowd. He looked like a wild man, his hair falling from its bun and his face red from running.

“Simon!” I broke from Mitch’s arms to collapse into Simon’s, sobbing. His strong arms wrapped around me while he peppered my face with kisses.

“Are you okay baby?” He looked so worried, it brought forth another round of tears. “What happened?” Simon was looking over my head at Donald and Mitch. My stepmother hadn’t moved away yet, her expression halfway between angry and shocked. Safe in Simon’s arms, I turned to look at her properly.

“Susan, don’t come back here. I’m never coming back, and if Dad tries to come here, I’ll tell the authorities everything that goes on at the farm.” I moved out of Simon’s embrace to step closer to her. “And I do mean everything.”

She stepped back, shaking her head. “You’re delusional, boy. This sickness, this perversion, has made you ill. Your father will have his say, don’t doubt me.”

“Everything, Susan. The beatings, the theft, the abuse of power. Don’t think I won’t,” I hissed before I turned back to Simon. “Take me home, Daddy,” I whispered as he wrapped me in his arms.

“Simon,” Donald said quietly, “I’ll be round later to talk to Rhys, but first I’m going to make sure Mrs O’Connell makes it to her bus.”

I heard Daddy answer, but didn’t bother looking, hiding my face against his chest. I felt woozy and sick, my head hurt, and I just wanted to go home.

Chapter 19

SIMON

I found myself gently banished to the kitchen while Rhys recounted the events that had transpired, and what had originally caused him to flee his home. At the muttered threats I had issued towards Rhys’s family Donald had shot me a warning glare, but it was Rhys who had asked if I wouldn’t mind making him a cuppa. I could still hear the conversation clearly, but I focused on making the brew. Me losing my temper and charging off to god knows where to beat seven shades of shit out of Rhys’s father might make me feel better, but in the larger scheme of things, I didn’t see it helping my boy. It still didn’t stop me wanting to do it when I heard Rhys speak of the horror story that had been his life.

How could any man do those things to his own son? I took a deep breath, and probably stirred the tea with a bit more vigour than it needed. Grabbing the mugs, I made my way back into the sitting room. Rhys sat curled up on the sofa. He was fidgeting nervously, fingers tangling together. As soon as Donald was done and gone, I’d get my boy’s bears for him.

“So your grandad can be reached at this number?” Donald tapped his notepad.

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