Chapter Two
Kit’s lips started trembling, and to his horror, tears threatened. It was as if Ted’s accusations over the years of him being weak and too emotional had cemented Kit’s responses to anything upsetting. But the tears in his eyes didn’t prevent him from seeing the rage in Gareth’s expression. At first, Kit thought it might be him who Gareth was angry at, but Gareth had already assured him he couldn’t stand Ted. It was ironic that they both referred to their father figure by his first name.
Of course, Kit had never done so to the guy’s face. He wasn’t able to bring himself to utter the word Dad, but Ted didn’t seem to mind that Kit called him Sir.
“Hey. Don’t.” Gareth leaned forward and patted Kit’s knee. “I’m gonna help, I promise. But I’ll need more details. Have you already been arrested? Did you jump bail?”
Kit shook his head. “No, I’d never do anything like that. Anyway, no one arrested me.” His bottom lip trembled, and he sucked in a deep breath before continuing. “I wasn’t going to wait for that. I needed to get away so I could think, try to figure out the best way to handle this. It came out of nowhere and I’ve never been in any kind of trouble before.”
Gareth pressed his lips together, his eyebrows pinched together. “Okay, that’s good you haven’t been questioned or arrested yet. I can work with that. But if that’s the case, then how do you know he even blamed you for his crime?”
“He told me he was going to turn me in. “I…” Kit had to look away. God, he’d been such an idiot. “I sort of confronted him yesterday, said I saw him, that I was going to the police and telling them everything. Then I started shouting how glad I was he was going to finally get what he deserved, that me and Mom would celebrate his arrest and couldn’t wait to be rid of him.” Kit gave Gareth a sheepish smile. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I sort of lost it.”
“Damn.” Gareth grunted. “You really went for it. But don’t beat yourself up, kid. I bet you’ve been holding that in for a long time.” He chuckled. “I certainly never held back with him. So, I take it that after your rant he threatened you?”
“Yeah. He left the house right after that and the very second the car drove away is when I started tearing the house apart, trying to figure out where Mom might have your address or phone number. I-I didn’t know who else to turn to. She’s certainly never been able to stand up to him all these years. And anyway, he’d convince here I was lying.”
Kit’s heart sped up as he recalled his panic. “But then, I remembered she sends you a Christmas card every year. As soon as I got your address, I left. Didn’t pack, didn’t go to the bank. I was so paranoid that the cops would show up at any minute. I was even scared they’d already be at the bus station by the time I got there.”
Gareth rubbed his face with both hands, anger still informing his features as he stared straight ahead. The suspense was killing Kit, he was dying to know what was going on in Gareth’s head. Did Gareth believe him? Was there anything he could do to help? Would he even want to help?
Sure, Gareth had been nice to him when he was a kid. Their age difference meant they rarely interacted beyond hanging out to watch a movie or when Gareth let him tag along to the store or something. But during those rare moments, his stepbrother had been a calming force in an otherwise stormy existence.
Kit still wasn’t sure what had drawn his mom to Gareth’s dad, and why she’d never come to Kit’s defense when Ted would treat him badly. He supposed it was because there hadn’t been much in the way of physical violence. Violence, yes. But perhaps his mother didn’t think it was all that terrible. Not when you compared Ted to Kit’s biological father.
Ted might throw things when in a rage, or grab her or Kit by the arm too roughly, jab his finger in their chests when yelling—always seeming to stop himself before he went so far as actually hitting them. But his words? The incessant shouting? Kit had already been a nervous wreck before the marriage. Ted had only added to his childhood trauma.
Then there was Gareth. Gareth had gifted him with smiles, affectionate teasing and sanctuary in his room when things got out of control between Kit’s mom and Ted. Or, if Kit happened to be Ted’s target for the day. Gareth would sneak him into his room and tell him he could stay there as long as he was quiet. Gareth would lie on his bed, listening to music through his headphones, or message his mystery friends who never came around the house. Meanwhile, Kit would read a book on the floor and pretend he wasn’t stealing peeks at Gareth.
Heat bloomed beneath Kit’s skin and he looked down. Back then, he’d assumed what he was experiencing was a type of hero worship. That since Gareth was the only older male in his life who was a positive role model, that he looked up to him for that reason.
But as he matured over the years, he started to wonder. Of course, being gay or queer or bi or anything that wasn’t one hundred percent hetero was completely out of the question in the Martin household. That much was clear. The slurs and insults hurled at Gareth—then eventually at him—had subconsciously repressed any smidgen of questioning that Kit might’ve had.
While he’d had crushes on plenty of girls—had even had a girlfriend for a while before she couldn’t take all the restrictions Kit was subjected to—whenever he got a postcard from Gareth or was reminded of him, he began considering that maybe hero worship wasn’t all he felt toward his stepbrother.
At last, Gareth turned to him, but Kit couldn’t read his expression. He rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands as he leaned forward.
“I can help, if you give me your permission.”
Kit frowned. Why would he need to give his permission? He’d come all the way to Vegas to ask Gareth for help. Was there something else Gareth was referring to that Kit didn’t understand? A horrifying thought jumped into his head.
“You’re not going to kill him, are you?”
Gareth made a strangled sound, abruptly straightening, his jaw slack in what seemed to be shock. “God, no.” He furrowed his brow. “Why would you assume that my first inclination would be murder?”
Kit swallowed hard as his stomach dropped. He hadn’t meant to insult him, but it had been eight years since he last had any real contact with Gareth. Ted always told him that Gareth was no good, that he was evil. Yet Kit knew that was bullshit. The true evil was Ted.
“I’m sorry.” He covered his face with both hands. “That was a terrible thing to say. I’m so ashamed.” Kit lowered his shaking hands but couldn’t meet Gareth’s eyes. “If you want me to leave, I will.”
“Jesus, kid.” Gareth sighed. “Stop it. If you want to leave, I won’t force you to stay. But I don’t want you to go.” Gareth cleared his throat and Kit glanced up. This time, it was Gareth who wouldn’t meet his gaze. “You’re all that’s good in what’s left of the tattered remnants of my family. Even if I was shit at keeping in touch, I never gave up altogether. I think somewhere inside I hoped we could get to know each other as adults.”
Kit blinked several times. “Wow.” He rubbed his wrist. “Then I’d like to stay. You’re all that’s good in my family, too.”
Gareth lifted his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Even though I’m a murdering bastard?”
At first, Kit’s gut clenched, but then Gareth broke into a smile. Kit let out a shaky laugh.
“I don’t know why I said that.”