Page 67 of Kiss, Kill, Thrill Me, Daddy

“Don’t fucking touch him!” he shouts at the discarded church door. There’s a loud growl, and when I open my eyes, Brody’s glaring at our intertwined fingers. “You either. I don’t know how many times I have to say it, you stupid fucking cumdump—don’t touch my boy!” He lifts his arm high to the sky, his fingers aimed in a straight line. I scream when he brings his hand down, karate chopping our hands apart. Thankfully, Brody’s sense of aim leaves much to be desired, so instead of smacking my hand, he strikes Scotty’s wrist, making my biffle cry out in agony.

“Daddy!” Scotty wails. “Why?”

“Ahh, Christ,” Brody cries. Seriously. There are tears in his eyes and everything. It’s an unsettling sight, seeing him like this. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” Bending forward, he scoops Scotty into his arms and holds him against his chest. “I was trying to hit your finger-fucking friend over there. Shit.” He grabs Scotty’s chin and stares into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Freakshow. I swear to God, I didn’t mean it.” As Brody continues ranting and raving about his actions, occasionally striking himself in the side of the headas some form of a self-inflicted comeuppance, I realize I’ve lost every ounce of my patience in this fucking lobby.

Ahead of me, just past the pews, stands Abi Kincaid, staring at me with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. I lift my hand and wave, stupidly shouting, “Hi, Abi,” at the man I love.

“The man I love,” I whisper. Huh. It’s strange to say those words and mean them. For half a year, I’ve rejected all his advances. I’ve made him feel like he’s been a constant pain in my ass. Now, I kind of want to rain down affection on him like an unending spring shower. To drench him completely, and not just in the sexual way.

Standing at his side is Fiona. Next to her, my mother. For reasons I can’t understand, their pinkies are locked, just like Scotty and mine were a moment ago. I’m not sure when or why Mom and Fee became friends, but it strikes up an irrational pang of jealousy in me, because Fee is mine. My friend. My sister from another mister. I kind of don’t want to share her. Whatever. I don’t have time to focus on Fiona. Not when Abi’s standing at the end of the aisle, waiting patiently.

“Hello, little one,” he shouts across the chapel.

“If everyone is ready,” the pastor says, his voice coated with disdain. “We need to get this sodomite wedding rehearsal out of the way so I can beg the Lord’s forgiveness for allowing it to happen here.”

The sound of a gun cocking cuts the silence in the room, but to my surprise, it isn’t Brody or Abi holding the gun. Instead, Fee’s got her pistol out, and she’s aiming it at the pastor’s head.

“I’m sorry,” she says with a sly smile. “What was that comment?”

“You motherfucker,” Brody’s voice calls out from behind me. “Unless you’ve taken a cock up your ass, you can shut the fuck up with your homophobia. Get ready, Reverend. The wrath. It’s coming for you.” I look over my shoulder to scowl at him, but his face is coated in rage. “Are you ready for it, Reverend? You wanna meet your Messiah?”

The man’s eyes blow wide as the moon itself, and in his panicked state, he holds his hands above his head in the shape of a Y. The room watches as he contorts his arms to a hummed version of “Y.M.C.A.” by The Village People.

She nods. “That’s what I thought. Leave it to evangelicals to turn into cowards when faced with grievous bodily harm.” She lifts her arm and motions me forward. Scotty and Brody don’t seem any closer to walking down the aisle, so I suppose I’m on my own for the moment. She smirks as she takes a threatening step forward. “I bet I could get you to do anything, right now. Couldn’t I?” The pastor whimpers. “Shall we test out that hypothesis?”

“I have a son,” he pleads. “My family needs me.”

“A family?” Fee cocks her head to the side. “Just you, a few adorable kids ... and your husband?”

The man’s eyes bulge. “I amnota sodomite!”

Fee jerks her hand down and fires a shot into the floorboards before aiming it at the man’s head again. “And your husband?” she repeats.

“Please,” he pleads. “Don’t make me say it. The Lord is here. This is his home.”

The gun pops again, firing another shot into the floor. “Say it.”

“With my husband,” he quickly agrees, looking like he might vomit at any moment.

“Because being gay is okay?” She raises an eyebrow, and when the man reluctantly nods, she adds, “Say it. Say it isn’t a sin.”

The man looks like he’s waging war in his head, but he eventually mumbles, “It isn’t a sin.”

“That’s what I thought. Coward.” Fee forces the gun into the back of her slacks and holds her hand out at her side. I’m not sure what she’s wanting, at first. My mother’s hand reaches out, weaving their fingers together.

I don’t have time for this foolishness. Not when I’msupposed to be rehearsing for my big day. Closing my eyes, I draw in a deep breath in an effort to steady my racing heart. When I open them, Abi is staring at me like I’m the only one in the room. Maybe I am. Maybe we are. It takes me a moment to realize everyone is staring at me, and I haven’t moved an inch.

I’m not sure how long I spaced out for, but it’s long enough for Scotty to slap the back of my head and hiss, “Dammit, Tater Tot. If you hold up the actual wedding ceremony like this, I’ll drown you in the baptismal pool in front of God and everyone. Get your ass down there so I can fake-marry Daddy.”

Not wanting to give him any reason to derail the rehearsal any longer, I begin my short trek up the aisle. As I walk, Abi’s eyes never leave me. He stares at me like I’m the last thing he’ll ever see, and he wants to memorize the moment. I drink the sight of him in, my thirst quenched when I see the shirt he’s wearing. It’s white, but in the center, it says, #Tatabi. When our eyes meet, I arch a brow. He flicks a finger between me and himself, saying. “It is our couple name. Fiona came up with it. She says we are ships.”

“I don’t know what the hell that means.”

She rolls her eyes. “I told him that if this were one of the romance novels I read, fans would ship you. I guess it got lost in translation.”

“She gave us one too!” Scotty shouts. “Brody and me. We’re Scrody.”

I look over my shoulder at him. “Scrody?”

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