Page 11 of In the Name of the Father

“Here we are.”

Malcolm opened the dark oak door wide, allowing Seth to go in ahead of him. He noted how Seth waited until Malcolm gestured to him that it was all right before moving past the threshold.

Such a wonderfully obedient boy.

He bit the inside of his cheek over his stupidly errant thought. Daylight couldn’t arrive soon enough so he could contact Nate and come up with a plan. In almost ten years, even when he’d beentryingto find a new boy, no one had ever struck him the way Seth did.

It’s not right.

The young man who had stepped inside his home with a beat-up backpack and old grocery tote that contained everything he owned, had been broken down by those who supposedly loved and cared for him. And the emotional and psychological injury that had been inflicted on Seth ran so deep, Malcolm wasn’t sure he’d ever recover from the damage. He could be there for him in many ways, but not as his Daddy. Seth needed help from people more qualified to deal with the unique issues he’d be faced with.

And anyway, he’d never understand.

Seth would likely recoil in horror if he knew what Malcolm needed in a partner. The poor kid’s internal homophobia was so strong, going beyond anything vanilla would surely freak him out.

As he’d been lost in his musings, Malcolm had finished locking up the house, putting his jacket on the wrought iron coatrack in the entry hall, and placing his wallet and keys in an art glass bowl of blues and greens on his burlwood coffee table.

“Have a seat, make yourself at home.” Malcolm gestured to the camel-colored, suede sofa.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to get it dirty. Everything’s so nice.”

“I’m sure. Let me worry about everything, remember?”

Let your Daddy take care of you.He slapped a hand to his forehead. Jesus, Malcolm. Stop already.

The sooner he found others who were more appropriate to help Seth, the better.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Let me put these pies in the fridge then I’ll get you some towels and show you the room where you’ll be staying.” He cleared his throat. “Tonight.” As Malcolm made his way across the stone flooring to the black-tiled kitchen past the dining area, he glanced over his shoulder. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No, thank you.”

Once Malcolm had taken care of the pies, he returned to the living room with two glasses of ice water. As he’d suspected, Seth hadn’t moved an inch.

“I was a little thirsty, so I brought this—just in case.”

Malcolm set down the drinks on the myrtle wood coasters he’d bought with Everett on a road trip from years ago. As Malcolm dropped onto the sofa—careful to position himself so that he wasn’t too close to Seth—he noted how Seth eyed the water. One a hunch, Malcolm reached for his glass then took a sip before putting it down again. As soon as Malcolm had let go of the tumbler, Seth followed suit.

If only things were different…

He held in a sigh. But they weren’t, and while he held out hope that Seth could improve his outlook on life, Malcolm seriously doubted that he’d play an integral part in Seth’s future.

“Do you have any other questions or concerns before you head off to bed?”

“Can we still talk tomorrow? You know, about…things?” He ducked his head. “I know it’s too late for a big discussion right now.”

Malcolm resisted the urge to offer Seth the comfort of touch. “Absolutely. I always keep my promises.”

Seth offered him a shy smile. “I can tell that about you, that you’re an honest man. Thanks.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you. But while I do consider that to be true about myself, I want to caution you not to give your trust to anyone merely because they’ve been nice to you.”

Seth tilted his head. “Is that the caretaker part of you speaking?”

Malcolm barked out a laugh. “Yes. It certainly is.”

Seth laughed lightly as well, and Malcolm discerned that they were well on their way to becoming more comfortable around each other.

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