Page 77 of Fall Wherever They May

He side-eyes me with a glare.

I throw my hands up. “What? No one would even know what’s going on. I could confuse the hell out of everyone. It could be our thing.”

“It will not be our thing. Hotshot is our thing.” He peeks over and shakes his head. “You just wait until I get you home.”

“Okaaay, Billy Ray.”

He shakes his head, and we both bust up laughing as we pull up to the security booth at our estate.The security guard is absent. Cal presses a code into the keypad, and the gate opens.

We finally arrive home and burst through the door laughing. Both of us are soaked and shivering. “I’ll grab us a towel. Just go to the laundry room and strip off that shirt.”

“Oh good, you’re both home safe.” My mom comes around the corner. She lowers her voice, “Tucker is in his room. Something at school upset him, and he won’t talk to me.”

I run upstairs, with Cal following behind me, and open Tucker’s door. “Hey, buddy.”

Tucker lays on his bed tossing a hockey puck in the air before catching it. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Tuck.” Cal walks into the room and sits in the desk chair next to Tucker’s bed. “What’s going on?”

“It’s stupid.”

I pinch my bottom lip, look to Cal, then back to Tucker. “Well, if it’s so stupid, then why are you so upset?” I sit on the end of his bed; the mattress squeaks under my weight as I shift.

Tucker rolls his eyes. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Okay, so you don’t want to talk to me about it. I’ll give you some space.” I lift myself from the bed. When I make it to the door, I stop and look over. Cal hasn’t moved.

He leans back and spreads out in the chair, making no attempt at following me. I leave them and walk to my master bathroom. Pulling a couple of towels out of the cabinet, I lay them on the counter. A hot shower sounds nice right about now, so I strip out of my wet clothes and step into the shower. The water stings at first, but my body soon adjusts.

Grabbing my lavender wash, I scrub my body, noticing the bruising love bites Callan left behind between my legs. The small bruises on my thighs are purple and a good reminder of where he’s been. A smile spreads across my face as I think back to last night. I’m deliciously sore.

I step out of the shower, dress, then make my way back to Tucker’s room, where I stand outside the door, eavesdropping.

“I feel so stupid,” Tucker’s voice carries into the hallway along with controllers clicking and the sound of a video game. “Oh man, no, go back the other way; you can attack from the side.”

“You’re not stupid. You’re the smartest kid I know.”

“And just how many kids do you know?”

“A lot, and not a single one of them is as smart as you.”

The hallway is filled with buttons clicking, but they’ve stopped talking, so I take that as my cue to move towards the room, but when I hear Cal’s voice again, I stop.

“Look, Tuck.” He releases a deep breath, and the game silences. “That kid’s delivery could have been a lot better. Actually, it wasn’t his place to say anything at all, but some kidsare just assholes. My question is, does it matter? I’m right here, choosing you every single day. I do the same things with you.” Tucker remains quiet.

“You don’t have to answer that. I’ve been where you are, and I understand where you’re coming from. You know, I didn’t have a dad either until I was adopted.”

“You were adopted?”

“Yeah.” Callan’s voice is hoarse and a little broken. “He’s the best man I know. When I was a teenager and would see my friends with their fathers, I would get jealous that I didn’t know my own. But, when I grew older, I realized that the man who adopted me chose me, and how awesome is it for someone to handpick you to be their son?”

“You would be the best dad.” Tucker says. “I just wish that you dating my mom made you my dad.”

My chest aches, and a tear falls down my cheek. I wipe it away with the back of my hand. Damn it! My heart breaks for my son.

Why? Why does this keep happening? This generational bondage just keeps repeating over and over, and I’m sick of it. I’m just glad Cal was able to talk him through whatever the kid said to upset him. I hear the game start back up again and decide to head downstairs to talk to my mom about the journals and give the boys time together.

I find Mom sitting at the island, her mind elsewhere, with a mug in her hand. “Hi, Mama.”

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